Masked
by Mystical Pen
Summary: Emily thought her life had taken an unexpected turn when Naomi, the daughter of a rich tycoon, asked for her as payment for her family's debt. Suddenly, the story of her life had fallen in the hands of the young blonde. But what if Naomi was merely another character in the plot of a story far bigger than any of them - a story that demanded death, pain and blood to write the ending?
1. Operation Commence

"Myst does not own Skins," the deep voice of a man said as he twirled his swivel chair, creating creaking noises – a rift in the silence of the atmosphere. The room was dark. The only source of light was the moon outside and even that was pale and dim, creating only little illumination on the torso of the man on the chair. His face was concealed by darkness. But then again, there would be no need to know his identity. After all, he'd already done my disclaimer for me.

"She will never own it. Ever." And with that, he twirled his chair once more, turning his back mysteriously on us all without even saying his name. Mysterious tosser.

* * *

Masked

A Naomily Fic

By: Mystical Pen

Prologue – Operation Commence

* * *

The creaking of a swivel chair doing a ninety-degree turn ripped at the veil of silence that had wrapped over the dark room. There was hardly any light illuminating the occupants, only the pale lunar glare streaming in from the small crack in the curtain, but that didn't seem to bother the two people nestled on two chairs placed at opposite sides of a wooden table. Especially not the man perched on the swivel chair. The sliver of light landing on the lower portion of his face was a witness to the smile that stretched his cleft chin, a proof that he didn't find the darkness very much pressing.

The same couldn't be said about the other person sitting opposite the man. Although the darkness didn't really bother the person, even though she sat straight in the wooden chair, her chest puffed out in a perfect sitting posture, her knees were still slightly shaking. Her heart was thumping hard against her ribs, and against the silence of the room, that seemed to be a deafening sound to her. It was a wonder her boss hadn't already heard it.

"So, officer, you have been debriefed for the operation?" came the voice of the chief. He clamped his hands together atop his table as he leaned closer. The sliver of light moved up his face as he moved, illuminating his blue eyes and the ends of his brown fringe this time.

"Yes, sir. I've been preparing for this for months." Despite her nerves, the female agent looked back into the probing eyes of her chief with certainty, as if telling him with only her gaze that she was indeed the best choice for the job. "The team has prepared me for anything and everything I would be dealing with for this operation. I've also done my own research. I'm as prepared as possible, sir. I'm ready to do this."

The man nodded approvingly, the sides of his eyes crinkling in glee at the woman's statements. "Good, then. Most excellent, officer." He smiled proudly once more to the woman before leaning away. The sound of an opening drawer reverberated on the walls of the room followed by the sound of a heavy stack of papers landing on the table top. Illuminated by the pale light was a thick brown folder overflowing with papers.

"This is the file folder of the team assembled to assist you in this operation." The man pushed the folder towards the woman, who took and laid it on her lap. The folder was heavy, filled with papers, with files of information about various agents. The woman sifted through the papers, skimming the information and taking in the most basic facts about her 'team'.

"They're about the same age as you," the man explained as the woman continued to scrutinize the papers. "Which means, they're young agents. And also means that they are deemed efficient enough in their own fields earlier than everyone. They are remarkable in what they do, is what I mean, officer. They're the best agents in their fields. They are chosen to assist you because they're the best choices."

The man waited for a while, letting the woman check the information herself in silence. Just like he said, they were actually the same age as her. The youngest was 25 and the oldest was 28, but most of them were 26, much like the woman.

"Some of them have been in this operation since over a year ago, but most are new in the team. Two of them have been in the company you will hopefully be a part of soon. Some of them, on the other hand will be deployed a little later, to avoid suspicion. Now, being a part of the company in itself will be up to you. You will have to work it out on your own. We would love to help, but we can't risk it." The man leaned back in his chair, leaning his weight in the back of his seat. The chair creaked under his heaviness. "But do not fret, officer, with your status and relations, I'm sure it wouldn't be a problem."

The woman read each and every name of the person on the folder, taking in their appearances, their fields and talents and their cover names, making sure to remember all the important facts.

Backwell

Barbieri

Henshaw

Pasqualino

Pasqualino

Scodelario

Tomone

O'Connell

"Backwell, Lisa," the man started, launching into detailed introduction of each and every member of her team. The woman listened intently, taking in as much information as possible. "Her cover identity is a queer, cheerful and joyous woman, not so far from her real personality. Her field is gathering information. Innocence and curiosity are the weapons she uses to extract the information she needs. People often dismiss it as just thirst for knowledge of a not-so-informed individual, so it works for us. From now on, you call her Pandora Moon." True to the description, Lisa Backwell's picture showed a woman with a wide smile that reached and touched even her eyes. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, much like the two people conversing in the room.

"Barbieri, Ollie. He is your team's researcher. His specialty is a more thorough extraction of information from all kinds of sources. Whatever you want him to find out, he'll be able to. And he's a genius in statistics, so that's his cover. A genius boy who is obsessed with trivia and facts and numbers. He works well with Backwell, so when you need something, you go to those two. Call him Jonah Jeremiah Jones, or JJ Jones. Whatever works for you." This one had curly brown hair and friendly blue eyes that held gentleness. He had braces glinting in his white teeth as he smiled innocently and sweetly at the camera. Judging by his look, he really did look like a wellspring of knowledge. His eyes had that genius glint.

"Henshaw, Georgia. She will be your personal bodyguard. She won't be able to come into operation until much later. We have to work her entrance and involvement into all this, somehow, for her to be your personal bodyguard. Of course, being an agent yourself, you know how to defend yourself, but your cover identity shouldn't be able to. That's where Henshaw comes in. The field and the career you are going to enter is not just play. It's dangerous and it's a big risk. So there must always be someone to look after you, and that someone, always being with you, is also supposed to be someone who won't betray your operations and moves to anyone on the other side of our investigation. So that person needs to be someone from our side. Henshaw has been an agent for three years now, specializing in martial arts and undercover missions that require physical strength. She might look small and fragile, but don't be faked. She will be Lara Lloyd to you." Just like Backwell, Georgia, or Lara perhaps, had blonde hair. But the ends of the strands on the sides of her hair had a reddish pink tint in them. She had dyed her hair. Add that to the serious scowl she had when the picture was taken, she really did look like someone you shouldn't mess with.

"Pasqualino, Luke." The man gestured to the folder in the woman's hand that was now flipped to Luke's page. A dashing bloke with a charming smile looked back at the woman. His eyes were deep-set and were warm brown, hidden a little by the fringe that fell carelessly over them. His skin was a bit tanned. He looked like someone from the Mediterranean. "Or Frederick McClair, his cover name. For his identity, he doesn't have to pretend and act that much. He just goes and reaches far in his past to bring back his old identity. He used to be a stoner, an addicted teenage in his youth. That was until he was pulled into the path of being an agent. He's one of our best ones, actually. Doesn't look like it, but he is. He is going to be his former self for this mission. Because of that, he could use his old connections. Bar hoppers, drug dealers, gangs and syndicate members, if you need any information from or about any of those, just go to Pass, that's his job. He does it well because he has real life tight connections to them. Very handy."

The next one was another Pasqualino. Besides the name being the same with Luke's, she looked like him as well. Judging that, they were most probably related, the woman thought. "Pasqualino, Klariza. She's Luke's sister, as you may have already figured out. So naturally, she's also supposed to be Freddie's sister. She's going to be another McClair – Karen McClair. She's not gonna be part of the company. But she's your team's best actress. If you need to extract any information from anyone where Lisa and Ollie's special talents won't work, and Luke has no connections to, then Klariza is the woman for the job. She can manipulate anybody into doing anything she wants, that's how amazing an actress she is. If you need to persuade someone into doing anything for the benefit of the operation, Klariza will be able to help you."

"Scodelario, Kaya," introduced the boss. He had a proud smile on his face as he talked about this next one, as if she was the most amazing thing that's ever happened to his career. "She's the youngest out of all of you, but don't let that taint your opinions of her. She's been in this business the longest. She's one of the experts in this field of undercover missions. She's been deployed to the company you will be working in a year ago and she's already making a good reputation there under the name Effy Stonem. She's been in this job for a long time, she knows a lot, sometimes even stretching out of the field of her specialty. She's going to assist you in this operation, officer. If you need anything, need to know anything about everything, you go to her. She knows everything, trust me." Looking back at the woman from the picture was a brunette with piercing blue eyes that, even though it was just a picture, seemed to hold so much knowledge. She had a smirk on her face that mirrored the same knowing look on her eyes. It was as if she was smirking because she knew something about you, like a very deep, dirty secret. It unnerved the woman a bit, but even she had to admit she was really beautiful. The woman got why the man in front of her looked smitten. It seemed everyone would be by this Scodelario woman.

"Tomone, Thomas." The man gestured to the picture of a black guy with a very wide smile. The look in his eyes suggested innocence and genuineness, much like Lisa's. "He's an informant. Has inside connection to one of the biggest gangs in Bristol. He's one of Johnny White's men. He's the one who gave us the inside information about the target of this mission. We owe everything to him, so to say. He won't be directly connected to your team. But from time to time, he might come to all of you for more information that could help your operation. Look out for him." Being a gangster struck the woman as a weird job for the Thomas guy. He didn't look like a gangster bloke. If anything, he was the one who had the most innocent look in any of them, like he was the purest out of everyone. That was weird, the woman thought again.

The boss took a deep breath and smiled at the agent. "That's your team for you," he said with a flourish of his hand towards the folder in her hands. "They are also chosen because they have special talents in the field that the company you will be infiltrating focuses on. These talents have permitted and will permit them into the ranks of the higher workers. They will have their own field in the company, to help you with the position you will surely be given. And as I've known, you've also specialized on Electronic Engineering. It will help a lot."

"As for your headquarters, the McClair family, a fake family for Luke and Klariza, has this shed that they have given to provide this purpose. It looks like an old, trashy shed of a young man on the outside, Freddie's supposed shed. It'll be covered and made to look trashy and homely, but it will have the usual necessities for your operations. You will learn more about that as you go on. For now, that's all you need to know."

After the long introduction, the agent looked back at the folder in her hands. There was still one more person in there that wasn't introduced. "Wait, this Jack O'Connell," she said, reading his name. "Isn't he my partner?"

"Oh, yes. I almost forgot about him, what with him not being here. Yes, he is your partner." When the woman looked back at the file on her hands, the picture of happy, happy guy looked back at her. His smile was so wide, his mouth was open in glee. He had mousy brown hair with straight fringe that fell to his forehead, hiding his eyebrows. To be honest, he didn't look much like a copper, let alone a secret agent. But then again, maybe that was the reason why he was into undercover operations. "This is O'Connell, Jack. He's supposed to be your partner in this operation, yes. He's supposed to be called James Cook. And he's also supposed to be here today with you, being prepared and briefed for the operation, but sadly, we can't reach him at the moment. We don't know why."

And then, as if on cue, the door of the room flung open, the hinges creaking and the wood clapping loudly against the wall. The light from the outside peered into the room, almost blinding the eyes of the occupants that had been used to the darkness by now. It wasn't long before someone blocked the light, though. In the threshold stood a man not much taller than the woman, but very well built for his height. His wide frame blocked out the bright light.

"Jack the lad is he- whoa, anyone in here? Why the fuck is it dark? Hullo?" The words were spoken by a low, deep voice with a funny accent.

"Mr. O'Connell, finally!" The other man's voice boomed as he stood up from his chair and beckoned for Jack to join them. "We have been trying to contact you for hours. You're supposed to be here being prepared."

"Oh, sorry 'bout that. I was, errrm…busy. Was in a party last night, friend's birthday and all. I overslept, yano, the usual." He walked towards the table, guided by only the dim light from the window. When he reached the table, he realized there wasn't a chair for him. But instead of that bothering him, he just went and sat on the edge of the table. "Why the fuck is it so dark in here, sir?"

"Well, the…errr lights died out a while ago. Haven't had time to replace it yet. But don't mind that, don't you like it? Gives a bit of mysterious air, doesn't it? I quite like it, actually."

With that, Jack laughed out loud. "I like it, I do. Besides, it hides your face, sir. I really, really like it! Love it!" He boomed, clapping the boss' back like he was clapping a comrade's shoulder. And with that, the tense atmosphere seemed to shatter around them, leaving comfortable air of companionship in its wake, seeing as the boss didn't actually seem that strict and serious. Didn't even seem to mind that Jack had been cursing all this time, not to mention, teased him about his face.

The woman, up until then, had been staring shocked and wide-eyed at the two as they had their friendly banter. There she was, all serious and nervous about her operation and then came her partner, acting like this was some kind of easy game they were going to play like chums. Didn't he care about the seriousness and the direness of the mission? "Wait, why are you laughing like that? Why are you so careless? You're supposed to be my partner, but you're acting like an immature teenager. You're supposed to be professional about this." The woman couldn't even keep the incredulity and the irritation in her voice.

In her surprise, instead of going serious, Jack only laughed again. He stood up from the table and went to sit on the arm of the woman's chair. "Don't be too serious." He reached out to clutch a lock of the woman's hair, examining it in his hands with the help of the little light from the window. "Blonde," he said after seeing the colour of her hair, "Blondie, don't be too serious. Our jobs and missions are serious enough. Our lives don't have to be too serious. Embrace fun as much as you could. Shag it even, if you get the chance." He glanced at the boss again, laughing at how mysterious the man seemed to look like in the dark. That was funny as hell. The man was far from serious in reality. "Besides, you shouldn't be too serious around him." He chucked his thumb towards his boss. "Yeah, he's our boss, but he's fun. He doesn't mind, not really, do you, sir?"

"Not that much, Jackster." The boss smiled at Jack again.

"See? I told ya."

"But back to business, O'Conell," the boss said once again, using Jack's surname, trying to get into the mission mood once again besides the lighter atmosphere over them. "I've handed your partner the files of your team. Study it. You will start this in a week's time so do whatever you want to do as yourselves before then. Because in a week's time, you won't be yourselves anymore."

"Sure thing, sir." Jack took the folder from the woman. "Wow, this is a lot. New friends, eh, Blondie?"

"Comrades, actually," the woman corrected.

"Eh, what? Just comrades? Co-workers?" He laughed. "Don't stick to that. I've been in this business for a long time. You don't spend time with them without turning them to your very own tossers. Give it two months, you'll be close to them and I'll hopefully have all the girls very well shagged by then. You should do it too. 'Tis fun. Releases the pressure."

To this, the woman gave Jack a disgusted look. "You're very unprofessional."

"Babe, I'm very real, that's what I am." He, then, turned to their boss. "Everything covered, then, sir? We can leave now?"

"You've barely even been here and you already want to leave?" The woman was looking at Jack with her eyebrows cocked up.

"Of course. We've got some partying to do, Blondie. Get to know each other and all that jazz, yano? Maybe some willy waggle, yeah?" Jack said with a smirk as he provocatively wagged his eyebrows at her.

"Please do not do that in front of me," their boss called out to Jack, pertaining to his eyebrow wagging. "It is very much creepy. But anyway, you are both dismissed. Everything you need to know is in that folder. Be on your way now. Good luck, officers. Og-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sir. We get it. Bye bye now," Jack said, cutting off whatever the boss was about to say. Then, he turned to the woman. He clutched at her wrist and pulled her up out of her seat and towards the door. "Thank you again, sir. Bye." And with that, he walked out the door with the woman.

The light that attacked her eyes was blinding, causing her pupils to react violently to it. She felt her eyes sting. She extracted her hand from Jack's hold and automatically raised it to shield her orbs from the bright light.

"Wow that is bright light, right there. But you, you are a great sight, Blondie. You're gorgeous," the woman heard from beside her and when she looked up, she saw Jack with his eyes roaming her face and then her body. "I thought you weren't because you looked like you loved being in the dark in there. Blondie, you should have said something."

"Would you stop calling me Blondie? It's irritating me. I'm not my hair colour." She glared at him, to which he only chuckled.

"We should introduce ourselves then." Jack suggested, as if she didn't already know who he was. "Hi, the name is Jack O'Connell." He thrust his hand forwards in a handshake. "Oh, wait. No. Hi, the name is Cook, James Cook." He beamed proudly at her as if remembering his cover name was the most amazing thing in the world to have done.

The blonde rolled her eyes, but nevertheless took the hand he offered and shook it once. She was already dreading the months she would spend with him. He was a right pain in the arse, in her opinion. "Naomi. Naomi Campbell."

To her surprise, instead of smiling, Jack frowned. "You didn't get the game, babe." He thrust his hand again. "I'm James Cook."

"And I'm Naomi Campbell."

"You're supposed to say your cover name, yano? And Naomi is your real name, as I've known. Unlike what you probably think, I did a little research on you. We are partners, after all. The cover name, Blondie. Or I'll keep calling you that."

"My cover name is my real name," Naomi said with a sigh. And to Jack's questioning look, she only answered, "Connections. That's why I'm assigned to this operation, because of my relations to the target."

"Oh. Okay."

"You should have known that, if you really did your research, like you're saying."

At that, Jack smiled sheepishly. "Well, I may or may not have read only your real name." He then grinned at her. "But anyways, Naomikins, we should party. Get to know each other and all that. Go to heaven before jumping into hell next week, eh?"

"Told you to call me Naomi, Cook." said Naomi, getting into the spirit of the cover name-calling. After all, if she would have to call him that for the next who-knows-how-long, she should start doing it now, get used to it and all.

"That's what I called you, Naomio." He grabbed her wrist once again as they walked through the department headquarters, eyes trailing after them. "You gotta get fucked up with tha Cookie Monster. This is gonna be fun. I can feel it, Naomikins. I can just feel it. The next months are gonna be fucking amazing. Just you wait. Just you wait…"

And with that, he pulled her towards the door and out the headquarters to wherever the hell he would bring her to. He came in the headquarters as Jack O'Connell and he walked out as James Cook.

* * *

A/N: There we go. I think I should apologize for using their real names, yeah? I had to use different names for them for their true identities, but I couldn't be bothered to think of new names. So I just used their real ones. I hope that poses no problems. Klariza had to be a Pasqualino, though, because she's supposed to be Luke's sister because Karen is Fred's sister and she can't very well be his sister without having the same name as him. And this will be the last time you'll see their real names in there, at least until the near end. Just saying.

So there it is. Thanks for reading. Pretty long and kinda dull for a prologue, but we need introductions, don't we? We'll get into the plot next chapter. If it's not much of a bother, send me a little tiny review, yeah? It'll make me happy. Anyway, bye. See you next time.

-xoxo Myst


	2. Payment

"Myst does not own the show," Katie recited in a bored tone as she looked at the piece of paper in her hand. She sighed as she passed it to her twin.

"She will only own it when-" Emily said, but stopped halfway. She frowned at the piece of paper. "Wait, what is this? I can't read." She nudged Katie's arm, showing her the word she couldn't read.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! This is complete boring rubbish!" Katie exclaimed as she took the paper away from Ems again and went to read it herself. "She will only own it when I am no longer gay," she finished.

"But you're not gay, Katie."

"I was reading it for you!" exclaimed Katie, answering her sister. "You were supposed to read it, but you said you can't-oh, fuck. Just…Ugh!" Without another word, Katie turned around and walked away, stomping her feet angrily.

"That was fun," Emily said as she laughed loudly after Katie had left.

"You were messing with her," I said, stepping away from my hiding place and then picking up the paper that Katie had thrown away. "It was legibly written. You can read it from a foot away, you Fitch."

"Yeah, but it was fun. You enjoyed it too." She cocked an eyebrow at me, daring me to contradict her. I did no such thing. "Anyway, you still don't own Skins and you never will because I'll always and forever be gay."

"Tsh. Duh!"

* * *

Mask

A Naomily Fic

By: Mystical Pen

Chapter 1: Payment

* * *

_**Emily**_

"So what do you think of him? Right lush, yeah?" The usual drone of my sister's voice poked at my attention as we walked the way back to our home. As usual, I was too bored to care about her nonsensical drawl about how 'lush' and 'mint' her new man was. We had just left from a party that Katie had dragged me to last night, and I was so tired, I felt just about ready to just crash on my bed and sleep for the next, maybe, two years. Truth was, I wasn't able to sleep at all last night, even though that was what I tend to do when the party wasn't my kind of party. Apart from the fact that I'd retreated to Katie's friend's room pretty late into the night with two others who were as bored as I was, it was also pretty fucking difficult to fall asleep. Could you blame me, though? I couldn't very much catch some Z's with four people fucking just somewhere in the room with me, my sister included. They had come and joined us in the room about an hour after we'd lain down. Their excuse was that all other rooms were taken. I didn't even fucking know why they weren't bothered that they were shagging in the presence of about three random girls. They just went and shagged each other's brains out like giving a show for us was the most normal thing ever. Let me tell you, it was nightmarish for me. Fucking horror. Especially seeing that older guy devouring my sister. I wanted to fucking throw him off the window, but thing was, it was Katie and I was pretty sure she freaking loved it.

"Can we please not talk about your 'man' anymore? It's making me want to throw up whatever food I have on my system," I groaned loudly. Really, this was getting tiring and I swear, if Katie didn't stop talking about that wanker right this instant, I'd just throw myself in the middle of the road and kill myself. That would be a more welcome event than this.

Katie, apparently sensing my irritation, decided to drop the matter, saying, "Whatever. You're just jealous I got my fair share of shag and you didn't. Not my fault you were fucking picky. There were, like, tons of fit guys there that would shag you if you'd just asked nicely."

Well, I'd say what she got was more than fair share, but what really piqued my irritation was the statement that followed that one. "For fuck's sake, Katie, I'm gay as a window. I don't crunch cocks. I munch muffs. When would you get that through to your head?"

"You're not gay, Ems. You're just stupid!" Katie argued once more. I couldn't count how many times she'd already used that argument with me. It never ever worked so I don't know why she kept using it. But that was probably because that was the only argument she could use on me without actually accepting who and what I really was.

This denial thing my family loved doing had always irritated me. During the first years of my coming out, it angered me as much as it depressed me. I had been so anguished then, because my own family couldn't accept what I was. Katie's argument had always been 'You're just stupid' and my mum's had always been 'You're too young to be gay' as if being gay had an age specification. But now, after years of denial, it just became right pathetic in my eyes. During the first two years, I'd tried to be as rebellious as I could be in terms of my sexuality. I frolicked and fooled around with lots of girls, but it did nothing to prove to my family that I really was as gay as a window could ever be. So I just quit caring about what they thought and just did whatever I wanted to do because everything was useless with them. I seriously think the only thing left I could do just to prove to them that there was no turning back from this was if I actually went and married a woman right in our garage. I would gladly do just that, but the problem was, I hadn't found that girl yet. But when I do, I swear I'd really do it.

"Not that argument again, Katie. I swear since five repetitions ago, you started sounding like a broken record." By then, we'd already reached our front door. We didn't stop our argument though, even as we stepped into the threshold. "For your own sake, I suggest you stop. You're sounding more and more pathetic the more you repeat it."

"I'm repeating it again and again because it's true, Ems! You don't know who you are. You're just being rebellious, is all."

"How many times do you want me to say it?! I'm not just being rebellious, Katie! And I'm not stupid!" We were near the stairs then. Only a few more steps and we'd be passing by the sitting room. But both Katie and I were very much engrossed in our argument to notice anything else besides our own voices. We didn't even notice the fact that nobody had greeted us at the door and that the whole house was practically quiet except for the few voices coming from the sitting room we were going to pass by in another step. We just continued to argue like that. We were at it like two kittens fighting over a mouse.

"You are!"

"I'm not!"

"You are so!"

"I said I'm not stupid!" I yelled at my sister. I'd turned around by now, shouting and yelling at her face, while walking backwards. "I'm gay!" I'd reached the sitting room, but, because my back was turned, I didn't notice the group of people sat in our couch. And I very much didn't notice the way their heads snapped up towards me. I was too engrossed in my argument with my sister to care. "I'm fucking gay! G-A-Y! GAY, Katie, Gay."

I looked back at my sister, my chest heaving from the intensity of my yells. I looked at her and found her gaping at me. I scoffed. Now that was a reaction I was waiting for. She was speechless and had nothing to counter my argument with. Ha! I was just about to make a smug comment to her when I noticed that no, she wasn't actually gaping at me. She was actually staring behind me, at the sitting room. And there, it was only then that I noticed the eerie calm inside the house. Our house was never this quiet. Silence just didn't work for Fitch. It was either my father or my brother that always seemed to blow up the house with their noise. So now, hearing no chaos, it was really unnatural.

"Well, congratulations to you, then. Yaaaay. You're gay. Whoop, whoop." A mocking voice said from behind me, clearly the voice of a woman. Slowly, I turned around, my eyes immediately seeking the owner of the voice and when my eyes landed on the couch in our sitting room, I felt all blood leave my face. There, sitting on the couch in formal and elegant clothes, were two people I'd never seen before, but nevertheless people that weren't supposed to have heard what I had just said to my sister. In an instant, all smugness left my body, embarrassment taking its place immediately. Especially after my eyes found the icy blue of the woman who had given the sarcastic comment earlier. All I saw in their depths was amusement. Clearly, she was being entertained by my embarrassment.

"So, do you usually do this when you have visitors?" asked the woman with the blue eyes and blonde hair. "You just go and announce that you're gay to every visitor? 'Cause if yes, I must commend you for being so…" She made a whooshing noise with her mouth while her hand flourished outwards in front of her. "Out there. You know, very confident and all that shit."

It was then that Katie walked towards me, revealing herself to the line of sight of the people in the sitting room.

"Ooooh. There are two of you. How convenient," said the blonde with her eyes sparkling with amusement. "So…are you gay too, like her?" She pointed to me.

"N-no!" stuttered Katie. "I'm…well, no. I'm not gay."

"These are my two daughters, they're twins," Mum introduced us. Up until then, my head was bowed. I was scolding myself for being so tactless and for not thinking before yelling my lungs out just a while ago. That was fucking embarrassing. I slowly looked up to meet my mother's eyes. When I did, her orbs were very much scolding me.

"I'm Katie," introduced my sister.

"I'm-" I started, but I was cut off by the voice of the blonde woman once more.

"You're gay. Yeah, we get it already."

When I looked up at her, she was still smiling at me like I was the most amusing thing she'd ever seen in her whole life. I instantly blushed under her scrutiny. There she was, dressed in all her glory, staring at me. I wasn't in all my glory. More like…I probably still had morning glory in my eyes. So, yeah. That was pretty unnerving.

"I was going to say my name is Emily."

"Oh," The blonde nodded. "I'm Naomi, then. Nice to meet you." It was in that moment that I noticed something unusual in the way she looked at me. It was different than the way she did a while ago before I introduced myself. It was almost like there was some inside joke that I wasn't getting. She looked at me like she knew something about me that gave her an advantage over me, which was very ridiculous since I don't remember ever seeing this girl before. I was pretty sure I'd never met her before. I would surely remember meeting a blonde woman with eyes so piercingly blue it was like she could see through my soul, right? Right?

At that thought, a fleeting image of a woman with intense blue eyes invaded my mind. Her eyes were the same shade as this one's. But, no. She couldn't be her, right? That woman had dark hair, almost black, and…and… Well, that was all I could remember about her features because she was wearing a mask when I'd met her. But she couldn't be her, right? Besides, I met that woman in London, not here in Bristol. She couldn't be her. Right? I shook my head then, trying to clear it of all other thoughts and bringing myself back to the present.

"Uhhhm. Nice to meet you too," I replied, trying to focus my attention to my mother, who was still glaring at me. "So, we'll just…uhhmmm," I helplessly pointed upstairs. "We'll just go to our room and clean up, yeah?"

"Yes, yes, you should. Let's just talk later," Mum said, her voice tight and promising a very, very long 'talk'.

"Whoa, whoa. Wait. Shouldn't they be here too?" The blonde, Naomi, asked the man beside her. "I mean, Dad, you did say this concerns their family, right? Shouldn't they be let in on it as well?"

"Well, it's okay, I guess." The man beside her, apparently her dad, said. His eyes went to my mum, as if asking for approval. "That wouldn't be a problem, right, Jenna?"

My father shrugged, but the man clearly wasn't interested in what my dad had to say. My mother looked like she would love to disagree with the man, but after seeing the man smiling widely at her, she nodded her own approval. Not before blushing a bit. _What? What's going on here?_

I would have questioned and asked for what was happening at first, especially why the fuck that man was looking at my mother like she was some delectable meal, which made my blood boil and my stomach churn at the same time. When I looked at Katie to see if she saw that little exchange, I noticed she was no longer standing beside me, but sitting on the arm of Dad's chair, looking very eager to hear whatever they were talking about. I looked around the room helplessly. I tried to ask my dad what was going on, but he was avoiding my eyes. It was then that my gaze landed on Naomi again. When I looked at her, she braced her own stare at me, facing my questioning glance full on. It was then that I saw her strip down the amusement her eyes held only a minute ago, letting me peek into the real emotion she was feeling at the moment. She was irritated, pissed and angry.

Naomi let her stare flick over to her father beside her and to my mother, as if telling me that yes, she had seen that little exchange. And it was very obvious she didn't like it one bit. She then looked at the other people in the room as if telling me how useless she thought they were in stopping whatever was taking place in that living room. It was only then that I fully realized why she had stopped us from leaving to our room. She needed someone to help her be the good daughter in this situation. And by the way she looked intently into my eyes, almost pleading me to stay and help her stand this torture and misery, I could tell she knew I was the only one who could be of any use.

As a reply to her very meaningful and intense gaze, I took a huge breath and went to the chair my dad was sitting on. But instead of sitting on the other arm of his chair, I just stood behind it, leaning against the back of it as I surveyed everyone. By standing there, I was in the direct line of sight of Naomi and out of sight of the rest of my family, making it easier for us to 'talk' with our eyes. Well, I was also in her father's line of sight, but, seeing as he only had eyes for my mother, that didn't seem to pose any problems.

"Now, that that's settled," Naomi said to her father after giving me a 'Thanks' with her eyes. "Go on. Do your thing."

"Okay." The man, who I still didn't know the name of, rubbed his hands together. "So, as I have said earlier, before we were so kindly interrupted, I am a friend of Rob's." He smiled to my father, a gesture that my dad didn't really return.

"Years ago, Rob asked for a bit of help from me, asked for a bit of money to start his business with. And of course, being the good man that I am, I lend him some. I was only starting on my own business back then, but I gave him a hand to start his own gym. Well, it's been years now, and as I'm expanding my business, I just thought that maybe today is the day I should ask for it back." The man stopped for a moment, his gaze landing on each of my parents, letting his words sink in.

The pause took a while, the silence stretching and wrapping around all of us as we mulled it over. So, he was here to take back his money. To me, that wasn't such a big deal since it was his money after all. And dad's gym was bustling with activity. Surely it wouldn't be a problem, right?

"So, you're here to take your money back?" my dad clarified.

"Yes, that's it."

Silence stretched over us once more. I looked at my father and saw uncertainty in his eyes. That look alone was enough to strike me with confusion. I looked at Katie and found her staring back at me, also looking baffled. Apparently, she saw the same hesitation in our father's eyes.

"Well, that wouldn't be much of a problem, right, Rob?" Mum turned to Dad. "Just write him a cheque and don't let them wait too long, dear."

Dad sighed, his attention focusing intently on the other man. "George, my friend, you know I'm very thankful for the help you've given me all those years, right? And I would pay you back, that was what I promised you. I'm not going to turn back on my word, I guarantee you that." Another inhale. "But I'm afraid, you couldn't have chosen a worse time." My dad gulped loudly, as if preparing himself to say something very hard to utter. "You see, my gym is suffering at the moment. I'm in a very tight situation. Can't you, like, wait for a few more months, years, maybe after I settle things with my gym? And then I promise I will pay you back."

The silence that engulfed each and every one of us then was far more pressing than the former ones. For one, this silence was heavy, it was charged with not only confusion but pressure – pressure that mostly came from my mother.

"Wait, suffering?" The shrill voice of Mum cracked the silence. "What do you mean, suffering? It's doing fine, Rob. We're doing fine."

"No, we're not, sweetie."

"What are you talking about?"

"I've lost the gym, Jenna."

The reactions of everyone in the room was varied and mixed. My mother, for one, squeaked loudly before bellowing a 'What?!' Katie gasped exaggeratedly. I could only gape at my father in shock. He'd never mentioned this to us ever. And judging by my mother's reaction, he'd never mentioned it to her either. Only Naomi had a not-so-shocked reaction to it.

"Well, that was careless. When did you misplace it?" the blonde said with sarcasm, her eyebrows hitched up in the middle of her forehead as she regarded our faces. When her gaze landed on me, I shot her a glare, which she replied to with a shrug of her shoulders. "I mean, 'Uh-oh, this is awkward.'"

"Indeed, it is." The other man, apparently George, just stared back at my father. When I looked at him, he didn't look anything close to pissed off at my father's excuses, nor did he look displeased. To be honest, there was some kind of amusement and glint in his eyes as he surveyed us. For someone who had his lent money hanging on spider's thread, he looked much more cheerful. Something didn't place right in me with that reaction of his, especially after I saw his eyes trail slowly to my mother with something akin to greed crossing his eyes. He looked like a predator about to seize his prey.

"Actually, it doesn't have to be money, you know?" George interrupted the banter that had started between my parents, then.

"Uhhm, Dad. On second thought, I think this is a bad time," Naomi appealed to her father, jerking her head to my parents who were shooting daggered looks at each other. Well, Mum was killing Dad with her eyes. Dad only looked like a poor little bunny caught between the teeth of a fox. "Let's just go back another time, let them talk about it, yeah?" Naomi suddenly sounded desperate to stop her father from talking any further. All sarcasm and amusement had left her. Huh. That was weird. When I looked at her, into her eyes, I saw nude panic glistening in her azure orbs, which was weird, seeing as she had nothing to panic over. We were the ones who were supposed to be panicking.

"No, that's not necessary, sweetie. After all, the payment doesn't have to be money." George was now looking at my father. "As I've said, I'm expanding my company and as much as I would need the funding, I would also need the extra manpower, employees, workers, secretaries, you know?" At the last part of his revelation, his eyes trailed back to my mother. It was then that my confused and still-panicked mind made sense of the look he had been throwing my mother since the first minute I laid eyes on him. He was after my mother. He wanted her to work for her, but judging by the looks he was giving her, there seemed to be something more than work in his mind. I don't know what the fuck this man was about, where his wife, Naomi's mother, was, but to hell would I let him do anything to my family, no matter how awful my mother was, she was still my mother, my father's wife. I looked at my sister, my eyes probing and seeking her face, to determine if she had sensed the same thing I did. She wasn't even looking at me. Just staring shocked at the floor, probably still not over the fact that we were almost bankrupt. I was just about to protest when Naomi beat me to it.

"That would be good then." If her eyes were bare and expressive to my own a while ago, stripped of defences and barriers, just letting me see the irritation and disapproval in them, now it held nothing. It was blank now, icy blue. And she was staring right back at me, even though she was talking to her father.

"It's good," Naomi repeated, still staring at me intently. "We'd need people to work for us, you mean?" She threw a short glance of clarification to her father before her eyes were back on mine. "Then I choose her. If you're going to pick someone to be a slave, then I want her."

Protests broke at the same time, then. My father, my mother and my sister all protested at the same time, commenting on the word 'slave' and 'her' and 'pick', but their voices were nowhere as demanding as mine as I asked, "What!? What did you just say?!" Because damn, her finger was pointing at nobody else but right at me.

"I want you, Emily Fitch, to be my own personal modern slave."

* * *

AN: There we go. Confusing, I know. And if you're wondering what connection this has to the first chapter, well, this is just Emily getting pulled into things that are dangerous for her. But there ya go, the Fitches. The gang is now complete.

Review Replies:

EffinHot: Thank you. You are the very first reviewer. Yay! Virtual cookies for you! I really hope you will enjoy this ride as much as I will surely enjoy handling the steering wheel. Stay with me no matter where I bring you to, okay? I promise to do my best to not disappoint.

'Guest': Thank you. I hope this will continue to be delicious for your tastes. There will be a sure update every Saturday or Sunday, but there will be times when I will be splitting chapters up due to its length. When that happens, you'll get back-to-back updates. Is that speedy enough, love? :D

Marsupial1974: A curious monkey is the best type of monkey. Well, at least next to 'muff-monkey'. ;D Yay, you appreciated the use of names! I was a bit worried about that, but it seems to be okay to you people. I'm happy. And whatever direction I go with, I promise there will be Naomily goodness waiting at the end of the road so yay for us all. :D

Thank you to all you people who reviewed. You guys are amazing. And thank you to those who added Masked in their follow and favourites list. You know who you are. Thanks a lot!

'Kay, that's all for tonight. See you next week. Leave another review on your way out. Thanks!

-xoxo Myst


	3. Earth, Water, Wind and Fire

"Myst, I will only tell people you own Skins if Cook can make me feel alright and then successfully willy waggles me," Naomi said as she crossed her arms over her chest, a smug and daring look plastered on her face. She faced me as we both stood by the sidewalk. "But you see, Cook couldn't make me feel alright if he stapled his tongue to my clit and stood on a cement mixer. So no, Myst, you do not own Skins."

Right then, the sounds of tires screeching on the pavement invaded the silence of the otherwise empty streets. Naomi looked to the direction of the noise and found a cement mixer truck rolling in from around the corner. The truck stopped and, from the driver side, out came Cook, a huge grin decorating his face while he wielded a big stapler. He walked towards Naomi, his hips swaying as he did so. Once he'd reached her, he raised the stapler in his hand and showed it to the blonde.

"What the fuck, Cook?" the blonde asked, her face mirroring a combination of shock and a little bit of panic.

"I like a bit of challenge, Naomio." He wagged his eyebrows at her suggestively. "I've got the stapler," he shook the stapler in front of her face, "I've got the cement mixer right there," he pointed behind him, "And you've got the clit," he said as his eyes roamed her body. "Now, take it out, babes, so I can prove you wrong and then we can willy waggle." He even did an exhibition of his expert thru sts.

"What?! NO!" Naomi argued. "Myst, look what he's doing!"

Naomi turned to me just as Cook advanced on her and stretched his arms wide in an attempt to hug her. His face was split in a huge grin. "Come on, Blondie. Let the Cookie monster devour his cookie! Yeaaaaaaaah!"

"Oh, Jesus." I start stepping back as I thought of the things Cook was saying. "I don't wanna be here to see this. Sorry, Naoms. I'm out! Thanks for the disclaimer!" And with that, I ran away, not knowing if Cook really did manage to munch on his cookie or not.

* * *

Masked

A Naomily Fic

By: Mystical Pen

Chapter 2: Earth, Water, Wind and Fire

* * *

_**Naomi**_

The day was going to be a bad one. That little fact had dawned on me the moment I was informed that my father was calling for me. It was early in the morning then, still a couple of hours before I had to prepare for the office. When one of the maids knocked on my door and told me that George was calling for me, I instantly knew that something was up. First of all, it was a rare occurrence that George calls for me. If he had anything to tell me, he just relayed it to me through his assistants. A conversation only takes place between us if it's an important matter; and most of the time, those important matters are matters I didn't want to be involved with. Second of all, by the time I was called it was an hour past his departure for the office. So him still being at home was a weird circumstance on its own. So by the time I'd reached his study, I already felt like someone out there was wielding a shovel, ready to dig my grave for me.

I knocked on the door twice as soon as I'd approached the thick wooden door. Not two seconds later, I heard a faint "Come in, dear," from the inside. Not wasting any more time, I pushed the door open and walked right towards the table in the middle of the room, sitting on one of the chairs immediately.

George looked at me, his eyes holding one of those looks that warranted no argument. With a clipped tone, he said, "You are not going to the office today, Naomi. I've already told Miss Stonem. You'll be accompanying me instead. Late this afternoon, after a couple of my meetings, I'll be coming back to fetch you. We will be visiting a friend of mine. Be prepared, dear. We'll be doing a lot of convincing." After that, he'd sent me back to my room without as much as an explanation. But even then, I'd felt the metaphorical loam falling on top of my head as someone started burying me alive. I swore it had something to do with the mischievous glint in George's eyes. That had never meant anything good before. Even as I walked away from George's study and back to my room, it still felt like my feet were planted firmly on that metaphorical grave, never leaving, never really escaping.

Now, don't go and think of me as an over-exaggerated bitch or anything. You don't know anything about my father. He wasn't your average businessman-slash-father. To be quite honest, he was more like the devil hiding under the skin of a businessman than a workaholic man at day and a domestic dad at night.

First thing you have to know about George Hadley is that he's not my real father. As I might have mentioned before, he's my stepfather. My mum married him while I was off at Oxford, pursuing a career in Criminology. Truth be told, I'd never, ever, heard George's name until days before the wedding itself. I blame that on the whole ridiculous endeavour that was called my 'relationship' with my mother, if you could even call it a proper mother-and-daughter relationship, that is. Again, don't get me wrong. I love my mother to bits. She's the most wonderful woman in the whole world, if you ask me. Only, the thing is, something happened and that had created a rift between us. A rift that, until now, hasn't been resolved.

As my mind wandered, I'd arrived in my room. I plopped back on the bed, my heart feeling unexplainably heavy. I laid down on the soft mattress, my eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling even more trapped than I had before, even more than that day I'd kick-started this mission. Truth be told, I never was eager for this job. I'd never volunteered for this. To be quite honest, I'd say Fate had pushed me towards this route without as much as an emergency way out. There was no choice that I could have chosen that would have meant well for me. It had been a choice between going and saving my mother or letting her dive into uncharted waters full of sharks and other horrors. My choice was obvious. I went to save my mother of course, but by choosing so, I'd put myself on the end of the fishing hook instead. I'd gone and replaced my mother as bait. And now, I was diving headfirst into the vicious waves. And as I thought of that, I felt myself drowning in my memories, my brain getting attacked once again by those memories charting the events that led to this hell, the reason how I'd gotten here. Inevitably, I let the waves carry my body around, bringing me deeper and deeper in the ocean of my treacherous memories.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Growing up, my mother loved me with all her heart. Despite the fact that I'd never known my father, my childhood had been a wonderful one; and I owe that all to my mother. But just like what people say, nothing is perfect and eventually, all good things come to an end. The end of that wonderful life had started when my mother fell in love again. I was just starting middle school when she met a man, a man who she cared for and gave her heart fully and unconditionally to. But in the end, the fucking bastard took it, broke it, and trampled on the broken shards with his fucking shiny shoes. The day he left her, it wasn't only my mother's heart that broke. That day, a crack appeared on the surface of my relationship with my mother. Things were never the same again after that. She was never herself again, to be more exact. She became more selfless. In a way, she had ceased caring for herself, opting only to care for other people.

For years, it went on like that. She would see a random homeless hobo in the streets, a single mother that had been kicked out of her apartment, a hippie who was too lazy to look after himself, and she would take them back home and have them live in our house. She even met a guy who looked like Jesus once and let him live with us, saying that the guy said he was the Messiah. The wanker even sneaked into my room once and slept on my bed with me. I slept naked, I should tell you. So that was a pretty fucking horrible thing to have happened. Worse was, my mum didn't seem to actually care. But the point was, things had gotten messier and more chaotic as the years flew by and as the house became more and more crowded. At first, it was okay with me since the first people she took in actually needed the help and had promised to get out of there as soon as they got back on their feet again. But as the years flew by, nobody left. People were just coming and coming instead of leaving and that had a very negative effect on my life, my mum's life, and our already fragmented relationship.

It was horrible, I tell you. Everything had become too much for me. It even came to the point when I felt like I was the intruder in my own house. I never got to have time with my mum; we never got to talk again. Privacy had become a rare luxury in our abode. It became suffocating for me. It was stifling. A lot of people had become involved in my life, while at the same time, none of them really were. Oh, and the fact that the longer I stayed in that overcrowded house, the more I realized how much of the devil were in those people my mum cared for, didn't help my already troubled mind and heart. When she was there, they were like angels, complete with wings and halos, but when her back was turned, those immaculately white costume crumbled to dust, replaced by sharp horns, scaly tails and forked tongues. I tried to tell my mother that, but due to the fact that she knew how fed up I already was with all the strangers, she just took it as another attempt of mine to have them all kicked out of the house. It didn't work. She chose to believe those strangers more than me. That was another crack added to our damaged relationship. I guess that was when I started drifting away from her, away to a world only for me, a world where she wasn't able to follow me.

Years passed, I graduated middle school, went to college and finished my A-levels. Things only got worse. The day I got my results, I tried the same tactic again. After showing her the three A's I got, which she was so very proud of, I took her good mood as a good opportunity. I tried to convince her once more to kick them all out. I'd done it because in a few days, I'd be leaving Bristol for Oxford so I could start preparing for Uni. I didn't want to leave her with all those bastards still at the house. Who knows what they would do with only my mum there to look after them, my mum who had blind eyes for them. To say that she didn't take it the way I expected her to would be the understatement of the century. She took it horribly and even told me I was being a prick, trying to get everyone else to leave her so she'd have nobody else left after I'd gone. She said a lot of things that day, but one sentence struck me the hardest. In the heated peak of our argument she'd accused me of kicking out of her life the only people who appreciated her. I believe her exact words were, "You're trying to kick out of my life the only people who appreciate what I do, what I am. They're the only people who care for me. More than everyone, Naomi, they're the only ones who really cared for me. More than even you. _They care for me and love me even more than you do._" And that did it for me. I spent the night packing my essentials; my tears were my only company. I didn't get even a blink of sleep. I spent all night rocking back and forth, bitter tears soaking my face. When the first light broke the hazy sky, I left for Oxford.

That journey to Oxford, I could surely say, was the longest journey I'd ever taken. It was the most horrible as well. I could remember only the feeling of bitterness, pain and betrayal as my companion the whole of the journey. I felt betrayed and broken by my own mother. I was bitter. How could she say that to me, when I only did the things I did for her? How could she say that I'd stopped caring, when every single day, all I wanted her to do was bring my mother back, the mother who loved me, the mother who actually paid attention. Was it my fault that I started to drift away from her? I didn't think it so; because she was the first one to drift away from me after all. For me, the day that the man who broke her heart left, he took my mother with him, leaving me with only the empty husk of Gina Campbell. Even after that, though, I still tried my best to bring her back. I supported her, made her feel loved after it, told her how much of a cunt that man was and that I loved her and would never leave her like the man did, like my own father did. But what did she do? She just shoved me away, chose to wallow in her depression on her own. All of my efforts to bring her back fell on unappreciative hands. She rejected all of my help. And then she accused me of leaving her, as a farewell gift? What the hell was that all about? So naturally, at the time, I was bitter and so I blamed her. From then on, I've lived my life blaming her for what happened between us.

After my leave without a goodbye to her, our relationship was well on its way to banishment. The only connection she had with me were letters that she sent to the dormitory I stayed in during Uni. She apologized, said sorry, about everything she'd said to me. Eventually, of course, I forgave her and said my own apologies. But the damage was done. The crack had become a hole on the glass of our relationship. It was well on its way to crumbling.

For a couple of years, we wrote each other letters. They were very few and short, but that was all we could give each other. It was obvious in our letters that we were both trying to fix things between us. She also wrote in her letters that she'd kicked out all those people out of our house and that she was trying to fix her life, so that when I come back, things would be well and prepared for me. She even told me she met this man named Kieran and he was helping her fix her life. I thought he was her therapist or something, but I couldn't be sure because I never asked. Because of that, though, I felt the rift between us healing slightly and slowly. I felt hopeful. I thought that maybe things weren't too late for me and my mother. But then she stopped sending me letters. For months, nearly a year, the letters didn't come. And when they finally did, I could tell things had changed once again. Gone were the lengthy and detailed letters telling me about what she was doing with her life. In replacement, the letters were short and straight to the point, always just letting me know she was okay and that I had nothing to worry about.

Of course I did worry, but after sending prodding letters after prodding letters, asking her what had happened, she finally told me to just leave it and stop being too worried. The short letters continued to find its way to me, until eventually, she stopped sending me replies. I wrote her loads of letters that received no answers. I came back to Bristol, but she wasn't at home when I arrived. The neighbours didn't know where she went, so I left again, as puzzled as I was when I'd arrived. Still, my letters came unanswered. That was when I truly gave up on us. I thought things were healing, but as it turned out, it was out of our abilities to fix things. It was like she was trying to permanently erase me from her life. It was horrible.

It wasn't long after that that I'd gone through the rest of my education. Graduation was only a couple of weeks away. I sent her the invitation for my graduation. I even came back to Bristol again to finally demand what had happened to her, but when I visited the house, I'd learned that she'd already moved out,not just out for a walk, literally moved out. Apparently, it wasn't long after I'd first visited that my mother came back and took all her things and left. She never came back since. They all said there was a man with her when she moved out. They said it appeared like the man was her lover or something like that. I was outraged. Betrayed once again, apparently. I hated her after that, really hated her. I went through with my graduation, with top honors, without my mother to award me my medal. I think I hated her for that more than for anything. It was because of her that I tried my best at Uni. And it was her I wanted with me when I finally walk up and stand at that pedestal, but she wasn't there. She was out somewhere else, with someone else.

I found a job after graduating, I saved up and after I'd had enough money to take care of myself, had my own flat, which the address I'd sent back to her old house, I decided to study again. Politics was one of my passions, yes, but back in College, what I'd really wanted to take was Criminology. My heart lay on doing things for the betterment of my society. Being a criminologist, whatever field, held that potential for me. I'd wanted to take it in the first place. The only thing that stood between me and my dreams were my mum. She thought it was too dangerous for me. So I opted for my second choice. So, yeah, you understand what I did, don't you? As a sign of rebellion towards my mum, I went and took Criminology. I'd say it was fully because I'd finally decided to man up and follow the career I'd wanted to pursue all along, but I know a part of it was because I wanted to get back at my mother for what she did. I'd tried to stop her from wrecking her life, but as it turned out, she still went for it. So I decided to go for what she stopped me from going after. I wanted to be rebellious. And so I had been.

No connection was exchanged whatsoever. I managed to get my degree in Criminology, again with honours. I managed to become a Law Reform Expert. I managed to be a very efficient part of one of the best teams in Oxford. On top of all that, I managed to survive without my mum. I very well thought I would start living my life without her, I was struggling to be able to, but seeing as I still didn't get any letters from her, I thought I had to make it no matter what. I had to be able to.

I was very much starting to convince myself I had to forget about her since she'd apparently forgotten about me. I was well on my way doing it. And then, a letter came. Well, no, it wasn't actually a letter. It was a wedding invitation. You know what those things are? They are invites…to a wedding…a wedding…of my mum's…my mum's wedding. My mum was getting married. What a fucking bitchslap that was.

I was angered. After everything she'd been through with a man? After every single heartbreak she'd had, she decided to go and fall in love again, not to mention get married again? What more, she ignored me for years, fucking erased me from her life and then go and fucking send me a fucking invitation for her fucking wedding? What the fuck? I was enraged. I vowed to ignore the invite. I would not come. I promised I wouldn't come. I really wouldn't. I planned on not going. Until one day changed that fucking decision. I think that was the day my life tilted on its axis permanently.

oOoOoOoOoOo

It had been a few days since it came to my flat, but the shock that had jumped on me when I read my mum's wedding invitation still had its teeth sunk deep in my flesh, threatening to drink me dry whenever I was left alone with my thoughts. For the past days, since the invitation had arrived, as an escape route, I had gone early to the headquarters, hoping that the buzz of duty and work would numb my thoughts. I'd done that for the next days but it was on the fourth day that something eventful really happened. I was early at the headquarters then as well. When I'd arrived, the place was still fairly empty, save for the office of our Inspector. It looked like he had been in a meeting with someone.

Being trained with discipline, of course I hadn't eavesdropped. It was against etiquette, after all. Besides, etiquette or not, I wasn't the nosey type of person. But on my fifth passing, my nose buried in a file folder, the door opened and out came the person the Inspector had been talking to. As I was busy reading from the file in my hand, I hadn't seen where I was going and the next thing I knew, I had slammed into a bulky body, everything I was holding falling to the ground in a heap along with the files from the person's own hands.

Immediately, I crouched and picked up the files. I'd swept to the side those that I had dropped and went to help the person pick up those he owned. It was then that I felt my heart skip a beat. Right there, flat on the ground by the folder, was an information file with the name George Hadley typed onto it, with the stamp "Prime Suspect" glaring right at me in red ink. George Hadley was also the name of my mother's fiancé.

"Uhmm, I'm so sorry," I apologized as I got to my feet, handing the man his folder while I clutched at mine. My eyes were still practically glued to the already closed folder, as if by looking hard enough, I'd be able to see through the cover. The man only replied to me with a nod and swiftly walked out the door. Suddenly, the drawer that held the invitation seemed like it was calling for me. It had been a couple of days since I'd brought the invitation in the headquarters, not able to stand the envelope being in my flat since it haunted me to no end every single night. This time though, as I retrieved the envelope from my drawer, it seemed like a ton heavier.

The day passed by uneventfully for the others, but for me, I still couldn't function properly, especially now that I was faced with the probability that my mother's soon-to-be-husband wasn't only a right wanker like the others, but also a criminal. The invitation was now folded and tucked in my pocket, weighing heavier and heavier as the clock ticked. Of course, at that point, I still couldn't be sure. After all, it was only a name. I was sure thousands of people had that name in the world. But even with that thought, I was nervous. I was out of my mind with worry. Two hours before the end of my duty, I was well on my way to dying of anxiety. It was then that I decided to fuck discipline, fuck rules and fuck confidentiality and beg information from my boss. I was on my way to knocking on his office, when he'd suddenly burst out and addressed the whole headquarters.

"You five! Reese, Villan, Arsena, Campbell, Serrano," he said, giving each five of us firm looks. "Come with me." He turned to the others. "The rest, stay here." Then, he stormed back in his office with us on his tail.

My heart was hammering in my chest as we stood in an arc by the table of our boss. I had inkling that this would be about what I had found out this morning, but for someone who would have her suspicions finally ended, I was a long way away from relaxing. How could I when the answer to my question of whether or not my mother was marrying a criminal could be yes? That was not something anybody could relax with.

"This morning, someone from the top came here to talk to me about a confidential operation," the boss started. His hands were clasped together on top of his table as he regarded us with calculating eyes. "It's an operation that only the best of the best in each department could be allowed in. You five are the ones that I regard as part of that group. It doesn't matter which field you're in. As long as you're in the upper percentage, you can be in. But here's the deal, there is only one from you that would be allowed. So out you five, we'll still deliberate who will be tasked with the operation. Only that person, that one, will be given all the details about the operation. For now, all I can tell you is that it concerns the biggest syndicate in all of UK. This operation has been going on for years. But now, there is a concrete lead, a lead that the chosen team would follow. People from above are hoping this will finally give us something. They're hoping that finally, something will come out of this, so only the best can be trusted. Now, who among you five will that be?"

The boss looked at the five of us, his eyebrows raised, as if he was waiting for any of us to be confident or conceited enough to step forward and announce being 'the best of the best'. The others just looked at each other, knowing that the choice wasn't really in our hands, even if someone actually does step forwards. They all just remained firm on their spots, their hands clasped behind their backs. I, on the other hand, went and raised my hand.

"Sir," I started, my hand falling to my side as I stepped forward. But instead of saying what everyone else had been expecting me to – along the lines of 'I'm the best sir, gimme the fucking job, yeah? – I just asked the question that had been eating me since this morning. "Sir, does this operation, by any chance, involve a man named George Hadley?"

The boss looked at me, his eyes widening slightly at my question. After all, it was supposed to be confidential. Nobody was supposed to know about it.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you anything about it until you're officially in the operation, officer."

"I'm sorry, sir. But I'm not asking for all the information. I just really need to know if a George Hadley is involved in it or not." My face held nothing as I almost pleaded for that bit of information. On the inside, I was very much desperate, but I still didn't let that taint my expression. All I had was my 'professional face'.

"This information is not something like ice cream to be given to any child asking for it, officer. Can you please tell me why you are in need of this bit of information?"

As an answer, I pulled the invitation out from my pocket and laid it on top of the table, by his elbow, and stepped back once more, waiting for him to scrutinize it in his own time, which he did. But it wasn't long after that that he addressed me once again.

"I'm deducing this Gina Campbell is your mother?" he asked me. I nodded as a reply. "Can I ask then, what made you think that a George Hadley is somehow involved in this operation?"

The look that the boss gave me then was downright suspicious that I was sure he thought of me as an eavesdropping little mouse. So I interrupted his thoughts with the truth.

"This morning, sir, I bumped into the upper man I assumed you were talking to. The file he had been holding fell and I helped him pick it all up. Amongst the files, I saw the name George Hadley. And as you can see the reason to," I gestured to the invitation still clutched in his hand, "it concerned me."

The Inspector looked back on the invitation and regarded it once more, probably read it again, same as I had once I took it out of the drawer that morning, making sure it was actually the same name written on it.

"Sir, as I've said, I'm not asking for a lot of information. I'm not asking to be a part of this mission…for now…I just want to know, sir. I can't sleep with that weight of concern on my shoulders. I can't sleep thinking that there's a possibility my mother is marrying a criminal, and the biggest, most dangerous criminal in all of UK at that I just can't handle that, sir. So please," I tried again, letting my voice tell how desperate I really was for the first time since we all came in. Even all my other colleagues looked concerned after hearing what I'd said and getting a clue as to how dire this situation was for me.

The Inspector sighed as he placed the invitation back on the table and nudged it with his fingers towards me. "I'm sorry, officer, but I can't tell you if your mother's fiancé is the same as our suspect. I'm afraid even I don't know that." He looked at me with apologetic eyes. But the evasion of the question wasn't lost on me. I was just about to point out I was merely asking if the suspect's name is indeed George when he held up his hand to stop me from saying anything. "I will, at least, look into it. I will ask for more information about this suspect we have and I promise to get back to you on that. This is dangerous though, officer. If indeed, it is the same person, then I'm afraid this responsibility will have to fall on your shoulders. And that's not gonna be a good thing when it happens. You're one of my best agents, if not the one on top, but if this proves to be true, officer, it's gonna be harder and more difficult than we all thought it was, especially because it involves your mother."

As he said them, the words seemed like a ton of rocks, slamming down on my shoulders, crumpling me on the ground. He was right of course, if indeed it was the same George, I would not only have the weight of my mum's safety on my shoulders, but also the weight of the operation. Because, even if we say it out loud or not, we all knew, all six of us, that if it was the same George Hadley, then there was no question as to who should hold the bomb. If my mum's George Hadley was the same George Hadley of this operation, whether it was my choice or not, I would have to shoulder the oncoming explosion.

"Pray to whatever god you have, Officer Campbell. Pray that they're two different people. For your sake and for your mother's, pray that they're not the same," he said, sadness in his eyes. Even without his admission, we all knew that the answer to my question was yes. Yes, the suspect's name was George Hadley. The only question left now was whether or not they were the same person. For the sake of my sanity and my mother's safety, I wished and hoped that the world wasn't that small. "I promise, though, Officer, I'll look into it. For now, I pray as well."

And with that, he ushered us all out. Without any trace, the issue of the deliberation of us five's efficiency was wiped clean from everyone's mind. All four of my colleagues didn't seem to care about it that much now. Being friends of mine as well as colleagues, they worry with me. And so now, what we all were thinking about were our gods and how we were all gonna pray to them that they not be as cruel as the situation was showing them to probably be.

The night and the following day came and passed with no further news about the matter. It was only the second day that I had been called back into the office of the Inspector. And all the night and the past day's prayers and wishes either fell on deaf ears or we all hadn't prayed hard enough.

The Inspector wasn't the type to beat around the bush since the first sentence that he'd told me was, "I'm sad to inform you, Officer Campbell, that your mother's fiancé, George Hadley, is indeed the main suspect of this operation." And those certainly weren't good words to hear so early in the morning.

"And you know what that means, right Officer?" He gestured to the chair by the other side of his table, ushering me to sit down. "I'm afraid this whole responsibility falls on your shoulders now."

The Inspector fell silent for a moment, letting the information sink into my mind. If circumstances had been different. If I'd been given this mission because of my abilities, I wouldn't have been this bitter about it. I wouldn't have been this negative. This time, though, I felt like this mission was a golden key being handed to me on a golden platter with ragged knives criss-crossed over it, threatening to slice my flesh if I ever tried to retrieve it. And what's worse was that the one who was handing me the platter was my mother. In one instance, she was smiling radiantly at me as she pushed me to retrieve the key, as if she was the reason behind all of this. And in one other instance, her bloody hands were clutching to the platter desperately as a gun was trained on her neck, pushing her to do whatever the gunner was telling her to. As I was sat there on that chair, with the Inspector still regarding me, I didn't know which of the two circumstances were the truth. I also didn't know which of the two circumstances I would choose to believe. I didn't know if I blamed my mother in all of these, or if I saw her as another victim of something far bigger than any of us.

"What did they say from above, sir?" I asked as I clasped my hands firmly across my knees as an attempt to calm my nerves and keep a hold on all the emotions threatening to drown me at any second.

"I had tried to get as much information as I could on the matter even though the only information I'm supposed to know was the basics. As you know, this operation is strictly confidential, Officer," he explained to me. "But after relaying our anxieties about the invitation and your mother's upcoming wedding, they decided to let me in on the more private information. And according to what they have given me, yes, this George Hadley was indeed about to get married to one Gina Campbell. After that, I'd showed them the copy of the invitation that I'd requested from you as further proof. And only one look at it, well, they requested a meeting with you. They're considering having you lead the taskforce, Officer Campbell." He leaned forwards on his table, closer to me, his eyes boring, as if trying to get through my ocular barriers and look into my soul to try to decipher if indeed I was ready for this or not. "So, Officer, do you accept or do you decline?"

The question was fairly simple. It was only a matter of yes or no. But out of all the questions I'd ever received in my whole life, I felt like this one had the ability to crumple my whole existence in a heap of nothingness on the polished floor. But really, what other choice did I have? Whether I liked it or not, whether it was her fault or not, my mother's safety still depended on this. And because of that, I had no other choice but to choose her.

"I accept, sir," I answered, willing my voice to reverberate with conviction. I wasn't quite sure if I'd managed it, but apparently, it had been good enough for the Inspector. With a smile that gleamed with pride, he squared his own shoulders and started briefing me on the information that he had been told to pass on to me as a bit of prepping before I meet with the upper men.

"The main thing you've got to know about this mission, Officer, is that this isn't just one of the little missions I've sent you and a couple of your colleagues to in the past years," the Inspector started. "This operation has been going on for the past six years, Officer. All the while, names after names of suspects had been making it on the lengthening roster of masterminds. All those past years, investigations have been conducted in all these prime suspects and every single one of those has led us to one person – this George Hadley. The comings and goings of this syndicate is like an intricate spider web. And at the very middle of it, is this man. After six years, it seemed we've finally found the trail we've been desperately groping around for. Because of this, a special team of outstanding agents, retrieved and extracted from different offices and departments from around Great Britain and Ireland, had been tasked to go undercover and infiltrate this suspect's life in order to further the investigation we have been long conducting."

"This syndicate is one that is known to be responsible for the missing of women from all around the United Kingdom. These women are believed to be kidnapped by the syndicate. After being taken, we still don't know what they have been doing to them. But these women that had gone missing are then found in other parts of the world, working in brothels and strip clubs. We deduce that these women were being sold by the syndicate as prostitutes. And that during the period of time they are abducted, something has been done to their minds because these women we have rescued didn't have any recollection of the recent months that had passed. The only memories they had were being escorted to these brothels by several people. After further pursuits, some of these 'escorts' had been taken under police custody. When they were interviewed, they knew no worthy information. Apparently, they're merely errand boys from certain gangs that had been paid to escort the ladies and take the payment for them and send them to random addresses after. These addresses hold no further information that would help the investigation, either. They were just random storage houses."

"So the team's mission now is to infiltrate George Hadley's life, including his job, to find out his daily operation and try to dig deeper into this syndicate we assume he is leading. The main information we have to gain is how they manage to erase these memories from the minds of the victims and who else are involved in these operations of the syndicate. Those are all needed information for us to be able to put a stop to this conspiracy and to cure all those that had been affected." The Inspector breathed after he'd finished, pausing a while to let me process all the newly acquired information. Then, he continued, "For now, that is the only information I can give you, but for the following months, as the team is being set up, briefings and meetings will be held with you, your colleagues for this operation, and the Chief. During those, you will receive further directions and further information that will help your progress."

I nodded curtly, indicating I had understood all he had said. As for now, I still needed more time to plan what I would do. Of course I would have to shoulder the operation, but along with that, I had to think about what to do with my mum. First thing's first, though, I had to be there for the wedding. Everything would just have to follow after that. "Yes, sir. I understand."

The Inspector nodded as well. "You are going to be dismissed now," he then said, the smile that had been painting his face turning into a somewhat sad one, "both from your duty and from your office here. I have to let you go now, according to the upper, so you will have time to prepare for this. This is a very long journey, officer. Sort out everything you have to before you have to go."

Again, I nodded as a reply, but more than that, I gave him my own smile. It was weird being dismissed like this. It was like I was leaving a home, going away to a journey without as much as a map to guide me. I'd be leaving the safety and solace of home here for a treacherous unknown world soon. It made me sad having to leave this place. Yes, it had only been two years, but being apart from my mother the past years during Uni, I'd cherished the relationships I'd gained in my department. Among these people, I'd found friends, colleagues who I treated like my own siblings, watching each other's backs and taking care of each other. Leaving this place was like leaving family once again. Thinking of that, I felt mixed feelings about the new group I'd be working with. I didn't know any of them. They were from different parts of the UK. I now wonder if I'd ever have the chance to actually be friends with any of them. Somehow, I doubted that. After all, how could I be friends with people without showing who I was and finding out who they really were in return? That would be a hard feat to accomplish if we'd all have to step into the shoes of different identities for the operation. We'd all be pretending. Somehow, I doubted that being real friends would be that easy if we were going to pretend as much as we would have to.

"I will, sir. Thank you so much for all the help. I really appreciate this, you trying your best to seek answers I couldn't seek for myself," I simply said, pouring out my gratification in all my words. It was true, though, it meant a lot to me, what he did. If it weren't for his insistence against the uppers, I wouldn't have been given this operation so soon and so easy. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't have been given the chance to protect my mother. Although it was something I wouldn't have chosen immediately of my own accord if my mum wasn't involved, the feeling of pride was still there. "I promise I won't let you down, sir. We will get to the bottom of this, I promise you that."

"Promise your mother and all the families of the victims that, Naomi, not me," the Inspector replied, surprising me with his use of my first name rather than the obligatory surname. "Besides, you don't have to promise me anything. I know you can do it. After all, I did say, if it were my choice, I'd really do pick you for the job."

The smile that stretched at my lips weren't forced at that moment. It was truly happy and thankful. "Thank you again, sir."

"You're welcome, officer." He gave me a wink as he slipped back to the formality of our ranks. "Good luck. May the force be with you," he joked before ushering me out of the office with another smile.

That was the last time I'd seen my own Inspector. It wasn't long after that that I had been called for a meeting with the Chief and my partner in crime as leader of the taskforce and had to go back to Bristol, the capital of the operation, the place I'd come from and the place I'd been trying desperately to escape. The irony of it all almost swallowed me whole.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Of course, after being handed the metaphorical key, I'd started the engine and I and seven others had started our journey towards the finish line of this operation. If I'd said that the journey was an easy one, I'd be outright lying. The journey wasn't consisted of pony rides on rainbow roads. Truth be told, it was more like the eight of us were trudging barefoot on a road of burning coals.

Initially, we'd started with a pretty good lead. Our advancement from that lead had been somewhat fair in speed when we'd started. But as time passed, our pace grew slower and slower. And even though I hated to admit it, I think we were now at a stalemate. I think this all started after my mum disappeared once again.

Just like I was expected, and what I'd promised, I attended the wedding. To say that my mother was surprised to see me there would be a huge understatement. She was taken aback when I'd shown up at the Hadley Manor a day before the wedding. Looking at her reaction, I'd wondered why she looked so surprised and horrified to see me. After all, she had sent me an invitation. I wasn't left pondering on it too long, though, because shortly after that, George came and introduced himself to me, also claiming that he had been the one to send me the invitation. Of course that pissed me off, but more than anything, it hurt me. There I was, going to the devil's den just to save my mother, while she slapped it on my face that she'd never intended me to be there in the first place. But, being on duty and undercover already, I didn't let it show. Instead, I'd acted like it didn't matter. I'd acted like I was ecstatic to be there, excited to have a new 'daddy' and eager to have a new life as a part of my mother's new family. George seemed to love that. Just as soon as I'd said it, he'd extended his invitation to have me live permanently in his Manor, to which I didn't say no to, of course. It was what we were all pining for after all.

At first, things were going well, at least in the aspect of the mission. I'd continued acting like the bratty bitch that George seemed to love seeing in me, the bastard. I'd tried and tried to impress him, even went and showed him how good I was in gadgets and technology and all that jazz, which I truly wasn't. To be quite honest, I hated gadgets and computers, but for the mission, I'd learned a few about it. And the constant barrage of blabber and chatter I'd been giving George about these gadgets were actually words of Ollie, our tech whiz. But that did the trick, and that was what mattered. In no time at all, I was in the company. It was there that I met the rest of my team once again, all settled in their own positions in the company, positions that would serve our mission the most.

In no time at all, we'd started working towards our goal. The kinds of systems we'd decided to build and create always involving something around the human's brain so we'd be closer to our target of finding out how George was able to manipulate the brains of those victims of his. We were doing okay for the first half a year. And then everything went tits up.

It all happened at the same time my mother vanished again. Our relationship since I arrived at the Hadley's was still strained. She refused to speak to me, like, really speak to me, like mother and daughter. In front of George, we were the sweet image of loving mother and child, but behind his back, the strain was still there. It was like my mother was hiding something from me, pretending and hiding under an different identity like I was. I couldn't blame her though. Even I had been hiding something from her. So I just let her have her way. It didn't mean it hadn't hurt me though. Every strained conversation we had was like another needle pierced in my lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe. Until one day, I just woke up with her gone from the Manor, and George handing me a letter that said my mother had gone away to do something she'd always wanted to. We had nothing to worry about.

The letter was written with my mother's handwriting, but even so, I wasn't convinced that she'd willingly written it. For one, even despite the strain in our relationship, my mother wouldn't have left without saying as much as a goodbye to me. Besides, it was queer and strange that she would be leaving so early in her married relationship. That wasn't what my mother was like. For her to really marry someone, she would have to love that person. And if she really did love George, then she wouldn't have left. I didn't have any answers to those questions I had. But even so, I had my hunches. And my gut was telling me something that I didn't like. It was telling me that whatever was going on with my mother still had something to do with George.

It had all gone tits up after that. I don't know if it was because my concentration had been fixed on trying to figure out what was happening to my mum with the help of the letters that arrived at the Manor every week, telling us to still not worry, or if things were just really meant to slow down in pace at this stage. We all couldn't be sure, but it was obvious that we were all struggling. And that struggle had lasted up until the current day. Our development had slowed down quite so much. If we went any slower, I think we'd actually start going backwards, which would be a very bad thing considering what was depending on us with this mission. Nevertheless, we were trying our very best, especially Jack, who was assigned to the darker side of the investigation. And Jack's perseverance somehow fuelled us as well. If Jack was enthusiastic about getting beat up and bashed, then we should do a lot better sitting in plush chairs in comfy offices. At least that was enough to push us further, which could be considered a marginally good thing. If only something would happen, though, something that would serve as a miracle to give us a push up to get things going again. If only…

xXxXxXxXxXx

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

The faint knocks on my bedroom door broke the haze of my slumber. I roused from my sleep, rubbing my eyes groggily before opening them and staring at the ceiling once again, which I had been doing before I had fallen asleep with my memories as my company. I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep. Apparently, I'd been more tired than I thought I had been, staying up late in the office the past night.

"Miss Naomi, are you in there?" I heard one of the maids' voice outside my door, followed by another series of knocks. Sitting up on the bed and pulling my knees to my chest, I decided to take pity on the maid. "Yes, I am. What do you need?!" I snapped, falling easily into the bitchy attitude that I always fall into around these people just because that was how George expected me to act like, and I had no choice but to do it.

"In two hours, miss, Master George would be here, fetching you for the meeting. I had been told to make sure you are ready by the time the master gets here, miss. Would you want me to help you get ready, ma'am?"

"What? Of course not. I can get ready by myself. What do you think I am? An incompetent fool? Leave me to it, I'll be ready when he comes."

And with that, I heard the footsteps of the maid fade with a timid "Yes, miss," as she walked away from the outside of my room, no doubt mumbling to herself how much of a fucking bitch I was, which I was getting used to by now. I was fairly sure every single soul in that mansion hated my guts. I wish I could have done something about it, but again, it wasn't on my hands. So, pushing that away from my mind, I started getting ready.

A couple of hours later, loyal to his schedule, George arrived and fetched me. In no time at all, we were on our way to Robert Fitch's, who, George had informed me, was a good friend of his. The whole of the journey to the Fitch's, even though the sun was fairly up and the weather was good, I couldn't shake off the feeling that a storm was coming, a storm that would blow things even more out of proportion. I could even feel the gust of the metaphorical wind blowing on my side of the car. Any moment now, when I step out the door, I was sure the wind would turn stronger and would blow me away. And that actually didn't sound so bad in my mind. At least it would blow me away from this stupid, hellish place. I wondered if that was possible though. As a reply, my brain told me I was going crazy.

When we finally arrived at the Fitch residence, I was pretty much already expecting the worst. Even though I seriously didn't know what business we have with Robert Fitch today, just by the look of excitement glinting in George's eyes, I immediately knew it was not just going to be a friendly visit. I already knew nothing good would come off of it. I felt like worse was about to turn to worst and then to fucking shit.

Being there with George, I was expected to be bitchy and rude in all senses of the word as much as I could. So naturally, as we stood at the Fitch's doorstep, I had stepped into my bitch shoes once again and had started acting like an arrogant little brat, much to George's pride. But it seemed that I didn't have to act that much impatient because by the length of time they made us wait outside their door, while people from the inside of the house tried to argue in hushed voices if we should be let in, I was well irritated already. I had gone all rude and told them to 'Just suck it up and let us the fuck in, you bimbos' which was forty percent acting and sixty percent honesty. The next thing I knew, a woman named Jenna Fitch was glaring daggers right at me as she opened the door. It was obvious in just one look that she didn't like me one bit. It was a mutual feeling, really. But that had become least of my problems because when I looked at George, I saw him eyeing Jenna like a vulture would his next food. Well, that is just fucking great, isn't it?

Saying that the next minutes were hell for me would be understating it. My consciousness was split into two. One was continuing my acting while getting as much information as I could because let us just face the truth. This business had become just a simple personal meeting of George to one that involved the darker, dimmer and more dangerous part of his identity, that part I was supposed to investigate, the moment I saw him look meaningfully at Jenna. I instantly knew she had become more or less another target of his. For what, I still wasn't sure, but she was a target nonetheless so Jenna had become another name on my list of concerns. And that was what the other part of my consciousness was concerned for, trying to look after Jenna even though she had been alternating from giving sweet smiles - much to her husband's displeasure – to George and discreetly shooting me death glares.

Even before meeting the Fitches, I already felt like a storm was coming. At first, I thought Jenna Fitch was where the bad vibes were coming from. But lo and behold, surprise, surprise! In come the Fitch twins. And guess what. They were apparently the eyes of the fucking storm. Oh, whoopee me!

If I would give someone an award for the best entrance ever made in history, I would have gladly given that award to the feisty, more petite twin that came and slapped us all in the face with her gayness. I would really have done it, you know? Complete with a witty, and smart comment, but the problem was, I was too stunned to even blink, let alone say anything, the moment my eyes fell on the "I'm gay" Fitch daughter. My acting skills seemed to be much better than I thought it was, though. Especially since nobody had noticed how shell shocked I'd been the moment the gay Fitch had walked into my line of sight. Did I know her, you ask? Did I recognize her from somewhere? Did I meet her some time before? Fucking yes. I would recognize those deep brown eyes, that cute button nose and those lips that do all the most adorable and wonderful things in the world anywhere I see it. Of course I knew her. But being the stubborn bitch that I was, I refused to believe myself. The moment I saw the shouting, irritated girl, I told myself it couldn't be her. Fate wouldn't be that cruel to me. I went to tell myself it wasn't her because she had different hair, but that hardly count seeing as I wasn't blonde when I met that redhead. But still, it couldn't be her. Right? Even though she was arguing and shouting the very thing that I thought was the most special about my brown-eyed, button-nosed girl. It still wasn't her. But then her twin sister walked in. And fucking hell, it was her. Amidst my sarcastic remarks directed at her, my brain shouted it the same time her lips uttered it.

_Emily._

That name, that simple name uttered by her lips, was the chant that would land upon me my doom. I knew it. But of course I didn't let it show. Fuck knows that would have ruined everything. I wasn't that unprofessional. So I pushed it at the back of my brain, even though it was practically showing me clips upon clips of a flaming red haired girl staring at me with the same blazing brown eyes as she sat on my lap. No. Of course, I wasn't thinking about that. Nope. I just hope my eyes were telling the same lies.

It was my responsibility to not drag any other person in this dangerous journey I was taking, I knew that of course. That was part of my mission. But apart from that, it was also something I'd promised myself that I wouldn't do, responsibility or no responsibility. The reason behind that was firstly, it would put that person's life in more danger, and secondly, it would make things more difficult for me and for my team than they already were. That was the reason I'd been trying my very best to push Jenna away from George by protesting against what I knew he had been thinking of when he'd made the statement. He needed a secretary, he said, but I was fairly sure being his secretary wasn't what he wanted Jenna for, the bastard. But I couldn't help myself from silently begging Emily to stay and help me push her mother out of this shitty hole George had stuck her in. Apparently, the Fitches weren't that sharp and Emily seemed to be the only one who was seeing things the way I do. Well, Rob seemed to see it that way as well, but damn, the man wasn't doing anything. He was practically useless. So, it really wasn't my fault that I had to beg for someone's help in this. Emily just seemed to be the best choice for it. I had been hoping against hope that she would be able to help me fix this. But lo and behold again. Instead of fixing things, I just made them worse. Congratulations, Campbell. You're a bleeding idiot.

If it had been my choice, I wouldn't have dragged Emily into this shithole. I wouldn't have gone and decided to declare 'Me, master. You, my slave!' But looking at George, I could tell he really was after Jenna. And between looking after Jenna and Emily, well, I'd choose the latter. At least Emily didn't want to rip my head off my shoulders. That would prove an advantage when time comes. So, inhaling deeply and sweeping off my face and eyes all emotions that I had let show in them for the sake of Emily trusting me a while ago, I'd went and said, "I want you, Emily Fitch, to be my own personal modern slave."

I swear, the intensity of Emily's stare right after I'd said it could have been enough to set fire to the fucking rain and set the world in a blaze of Fitch fury. She stared at me, her eyes burning with defiance as the meaning of what I'd said sunk in. Suddenly, all incredulity was gone from her features. And in its place, written across her eyes, her face and the gestures she was making were the words: FUCKING NO. I swear, in that moment, the fire in her gaze had gone and ignited every vein in my body. She was staring me to burning ashes, and I just sat there, the fire eating me, not doing anything to take back my words. I just sat there, burning in a blaze of glory ignited by my fiery little Fitch.

* * *

AN: I know. It's been two weeks. And now I've left you with the same cliffhanger I've left you with last chapter, only with a different perspective. I'm so sorry, both for being late, and for this step back in the plot. But you see, this is actually relevant. And you really should have paid attention to all those ramblings Naomi did when she told you about her life because that will prove useful sometime in the future. So, I'm really sorry, but this is relevant. I just hope you didn't get bored with that. And I know I should have split this into two chapters because it's very long. But I kind of felt like it's not right. I just really wish I didn't bore you. Because I'm very scared and paranoid now.

Anyway, Review Replies:

Marsupial1974: Thank you for that very detailed review. I'm glad you liked it, especially the disclaimers. I try very hard to keep them entertaining. I just hope I don't run out of ideas. That would be bad.

Qwert232: I apologize that this took so long. I hope you haven't left me yet. I'll try harder to update on schedule. Thank you for that wonderful review. :D

EffinHot: Well, who doesn't? Although, I wouldn't mind being THE SLAVE for Emily as well as being her master. Who doesn't want that as well, eh? Thanks, again. :D

Claire: I'm so sorry that this actually doesn't tell you yet what happens next. Instead, this tells you what happened previously. I hope this doesn't disappoint. I really am sorry. Anyway, thanks. :D

LondonIsCalling: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this one too. :D

And…leave a review on the way out? Thank you in advance!


	4. Promises

AN: One huge warning before you start reading, this is a very, very massive chapter. A bit of an apology for not updating for two weeks. This is what I owe you guys. It's a massive chapter, but it gets three things done. Finally, Emily agrees to things and we get a bit more connection and interaction between Naomi and Emily. And we get a bit of a peek into Emily's history. I just hope you guys don't get bored and that I don't drive you away with this chapter. Anyway, read on.

* * *

"She tells me this ting and that ting to make me come undone," the exaggeratedly high-pitched voice of James Fitch sang as he swayed on his feet. He turned around and bent over to give the camera a good view of his arse up his tight leopard-print, off-shoulder dress. "Then she whispers in my ear, boy, I wanna see you going Ass2Ass with you." He continued singing, placing his finger at the side of lips and blowing the camera a soundly kiss. "I wanna see him going Ass2Ass with you! She wants to see me going Ass2Ass with you!" Then, he proceeded to slapping the cheek of his arse loudly, flesh clapping against flesh. And that pretty much did it for me.

"Ugh! I can't do this anymore!" I yelled, a grimace on my face, as I clicked the pause button on the camera and pulled it away from my face. "I've seen enough, James. Please, will you just do my Disclaimer for me so I can go now?"

"What?!" James' ridiculously made-up face twisted in a frown. His lips that were red with lipstick turned down in a pout. "But we still have Juicing Down to shoot! And you'll dance with me for it! Come on, you can't leave me now!"

"Oh, Jesus, no. Juicing Down? No, no, no," I argued again, my face pretty much already begging him to just let me go. "Please just do my disclaimer so I can go and escape this torture now. Please, I don't wanna do Juicing Down."

At that, James sighed. "Oh, alright. Myst does not own Skins. Do not sue her, please," he finished. "There. But you still owe me. Next time, it's gonna be Rim Licker, okay?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

* * *

Masked

A Naomily Fanfiction

By: Mystical Pen

Chapter 03: Promises

* * *

_**Naomi**_

"I want you, Emily Fitch, to be my own personal modern slave," I said, my eyes firmly holding Emily's in an intense stare. My insides churned wildly as she stared back at me, fire roaring behind her brown orbs, but I didn't dare let my panic show in my own eyes. If I had been letting Emily look into my very soul a while ago, letting her practically taste my desperation as I mentally begged her to help me retrieve her mother from the pit of Tartarus she'd fallen into and then my irritation and disapproval after George had finally spoke his evil intention, this time, I hid behind my walls of ice and let the barriers protect me from her probing stare. This time, it was the Ice Queen that looked back at her, not the real Naomi Campbell.

At my first statement that contradicted my father's a while ago, protests immediately broke out, but this time, as they probably realized I wasn't just taking the piss, the silence reigned over the whole room. It stretched through the ticks of the clock. Even Jenna Fitch was speechless, her mouth just hanging open as she stared with wide eyes at me.

"Well then I want you, Naomi Fuckbitch, to fuck off and die!" The husky voice of Emily boomed; all the anger and fury blazing in her eyes, echoing in her voice. Of course, I was expecting that. Maybe I hadn't known her that long and I didn't get to spend lots of times with her, just that one night, but even that small a time was enough to show me how much of a braveheart Emily Fitch was. She wasn't the kind of girl that would take anybody's crap. She was more like that girl who would dunk your head in that shit you were trying to trip her into. Honestly, I'd have been disappointed if she hadn't told me to fuck off.

"Now, now, Emsy, dear, there's no need for this hostility," Rob gently admonished, but even I could see he was pretty much agreeing to what his daughter had just said. "I'm sure Naomi here didn't mean what she said the way she phrased it."

"Yes," George said, and when I looked at him, his eyes were practically peeling me, demanding why the fuck I'd just said that. "I'm sure Naomi here didn't mean what she said."

"No, I very much meant what I said," I insisted. As a reply to that, George just narrowed his eyes at me. "Oh, all right. The word slave might be exaggerating it. I meant I need her to be my assistant, my personal assistant."

"Why would you need an assistant? You have Miss Stonem assisting you," George argued, still trying to talk me out of what I was doing. For a moment, all the other people in the room were forgotten. All that mattered was George and me and his mission of stripping me of the answers he so wanted to get from me.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself to step up my convincing skills and start using the card I'd always used to play George with my fingers. Fixing him with a serious stare, I decided to start to speak to him using that tone I always used to get him to agree with me. It was a tone that suggested I had thought about this, calculated this, weighed the pros and the cons of this decision and had come up with one result. This, what I was doing, would play to our advantage more than anybody else's. I'd used this tone with him multiple times for the past months, usually involving decisions about whether or not we should take a proffered leap for the business. When I'd used this strategy with him in the past, I'd fed him with cunning but selfish solutions. All of them had worked to his advantage. One thing a person working with George must know, the best way to sway him to your side was to show to him that siding with you would give him the biggest advantage. That was how selfish a bastard he was.

"Dad, listen," I started, turning towards him and trying my best to ignore the daggers that Emily was shooting at the back of my head. "First of all, Elizabeth Stonem is my team's project manager. As the project manager of the team, it's her task to make sure that everything is going well with all the other departments. She manages the time table, makes sure that everything is well within the line of our budget, checks if all the duties are being met at the right schedule, and if everybody is doing their jobs at the right level of efficiency we all need them to. She sees over the planning, production and finances of our products after I've looked over it. She's more like my partner than my assistant. In short, Dad, Elizabeth has got a lot on her hands already. And assisting me with my personal duties isn't supposed to be another burden on her already heavy shoulders. Now, second of all, me being the System Analyst, I go around the place every day, talking my way into the pockets of your buyers, convincing them that whatever we're making is making their life easier and sealing deals for the company. So I need someone to arrange my schedule for me so that I wouldn't forget any of those. You know how just one meeting gone wrong could mess up everything. I don't want my team being fucked up the arse three ways just because I've overlooked one detail on my own time table. I can't not have someone assist me. Third of all," I paused, taking another deep breath to prepare myself for what I was about to say, "I need more people on my team as much you do on yours. I'm sure whatever you want Mrs Fitch to do, I could make Emily Fitch do under my own watch."

Just as I expected, protests upon protests from Emily Fitch invaded my hearing again, but I didn't dare acknowledge them. At the moment, my whole attention was fixated on George. As I continued to look intently at him with serious eyes, even without speaking, I tried to send him a message, a message that, under the cover of my pretensions, was killing me even just thinking about it. I was trying to tell him, 'Whatever use you want with Jenna Fitch, I'd make sure Emily Fitch would be a better substitute.' And just thinking about that, it was enough to kill me. I was practically selling Emily to the devil with full knowledge of what kind of hell and torture he was capable of providing her. I felt like I wanted to puke then, but I hid it all. Summoning all the courage I had, I steeled myself and, for the sake of Emily and the Fitches, I hid behind my fake bravery.

"Well, then, that's sensible enough," George finally conceded. It was only then that I realized I'd been holding my breath all this time and only after he'd agreed was I able to release it. Jenna Fitch was out of the trap. Now, my next mission was to make sure Emily would get out of it unscathed. I vowed to succeed in doing that. Even if in the end, I'd have to dive into the trap myself just so I could throw Emily out of it, I swore I would do it. After all, it was me who'd tripped her into it. It was my guilt and burden to bear. I only wished Emily would be able to forgive me for this.

"I'm sorry if my daughter didn't phrase that right with you. I'm afraid she has a tendency of using overdramatic words as well as curses, which I'd have to admonish her for later. Works well with business talks, though, if you know what I mean?" George turned back to the Fitches, mostly to Jenna, and apologized about my rudeness as if I wasn't there. I didn't mind though, I was just too relieved that I managed to convince him. That was important. Like I said before, George knew how to play his cards right. Now, with him on my side, I was sure he would be able to get the Fitches to loosen their hold on Emily and let her go. Now, about Emily though, I was just counting on Jenna forcing her daughter to do it. Normally, I would have hated myself about thinking that. After all, I knew how much Emily hated her family, especially her mother, controlling her. But just like I said, I didn't have any choice. I just really, really hope that someday, Emily would be able to forgive me for this. Because truth be told, I don't think I could forgive myself.

"But this time, though, it won't work, my dear," George continued, finally looking at me as if he was scolding me for speaking so harshly. "So let me rephrase that for you." He gave the Fitches his best smile, earning a poorly hidden scowl from Rob, a tight-lipped smile from Jenna and twin glares of Death from Katie and Emily. "What Naomi means is that she is requesting for your daughter to assist her in managing a part of my company. You see, I've just given Naomi her own team to look after in my company. She leads a huge team of workers designated to invent, produce and market gadgets and products using the best technology that can be used. That is a very big responsibility to be handled alone so Naomi needs someone to help her handle everything so that things will go smoothly. In short, she needs a personal secretary. Her department has a very efficient Project Manager that occasionally helps her with her personal schedule, Miss Elizabeth Stonem, but Elizabeth also looks after other concerns latched with the department. Like what Naomi has said, she has a lot on her hands already. So Elizabeth wouldn't be enough, I'm afraid. Originally, I would have asked for your services, Mrs. Fitch, but seeing as my daughter has brought into account a rather important issue that needs attention, I would gladly step aside and assist her needs before mine. After all, I'm her father, I need to look after her, yes?" He looked at the Fitches with a proud smile on his face. I, on the other hand, just wanted to wipe that fake smile on his face. Fatherly concern, my arse. "So, it would be an honour to be graced with your magnificent daughter's services, Mrs Fitch. By doing so, I promise to forget about the debt and also in turn, promise an outstanding pay for your daughter's excellence."

Manipulation, money and flattery could get a person a long way. And those were indeed three things that George had and knew very much how to use. The moment he armed his gun with those three bullets, you could already consider the target dead. So, I really wasn't surprised when Jenna's eyes lit up at the thought of her daughter having a position at a prestigious company with a promise of 'outstanding' pay. In an instant, the thought didn't seem too horrendous for her. In an instant, she forgot that that still meant she was giving her daughter off as payment for her family's debt. The money they were gonna get seemed to cover that up for her. She even looked like she wanted to volunteer herself for the job. Which was in no fucking way gonna happen. That was what got us into this mess in the first place. I wouldn't let that happen in a million years.

"Oh, in that case then, it doesn't sound so unfortunate, don't you think, Rob?" She turned to her husband, but it still didn't look like she was really asking for his opinion. It was just for the sake of asking. But Rob wasn't who I was concerned for at the moment. It was Emily's opinion I wanted to hear. When I looked up at her, gone was her face of utter disapproval. In its place was a blank void. Her face was unreadable, wiped clean of the blazing determination she had a while ago. Her eyes, though, her eyes spoke volumes. But this time, it didn't only blaze with fire, in the depths of her brown orbs, something else was swimming behind the flames, something that I had seen amongst the flecks of her eyes years ago when I first met her. It was something I'd hoped I'd never see again, but it seemed, it was something that life never failed to still give her – disappointment.

I could feel my heart shattering for Emily. So it seemed things didn't change over the years. Still, it was easy for her family, her mother, to forget she was a person, not a thing they could manipulate to do things for their convenience. I could feel her hurt and disappointment punching me in the gut, intensifying the stabs of guilt I was already enduring. Years ago, she'd looked at me like I was her superhero, now I wanted to give myself the same bollocking I'd wanted to give her family back then because right that moment, I wasn't being Emily's superhero. I was just like every single Fitch in that room. I was the villain in her life.

"What did you finish, dear?" Suddenly, I was shaken off my thoughts by the sound of George's voice. He was talking to Emily, who looked just about ready to ignore him, if not for her mother's glare.

_Information Technology_

"Information Technology."

Again my mind shouted that little fact the same time Emily said it. The last time I saw her, she told me that was her dream career, being an IT expert, 'Creating new things, new innovations', she'd said. I only just replied to her saying I hated gadgets and everything to do with it and computers back then. I wouldn't be caught dead hyperventilating over the release of the new fucking iPhone 5. If she only knew I was that person, Emily would have laughed at my face for the irony of it all. But then again, I doubt that as well. If she knew I was the same person, she would have been disappointed with me more than anything. I was now the exact opposite of that woman she'd met before.

"Well, that's just convenient. You're the right person for the job, my dear, wouldn't you agree?" George continued his tirade. "Naomi here graduated Computer Science. And she's in love with what she's doing. I think you will be as well, if you gave it a try." Of course it wasn't true. I wasn't in love with what I was doing. It was a lie, like I'd said. He was freaking proud of that, though, because of all the deals I'd locked for him, not knowing that everything I'd been saying in all those meetings I went to, introducing our newest technology, were all Ollie's words fed to me through an earpiece as he listened on with the help of a microphone strapped to the back of my collar. He was proud of me for all the wrong things, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I didn't give a flying fuck about him.

"But I have a job," Emily said, trying to get out of the situation. Her voice now sounded certain and secure, but her eyes still held that look of forlorn defeat amongst the flames of her resolve. "And I love it. I'll fucking marry it if I can. So no, I won't leave it."

Despite the circumstances, I wanted to smirk at that. Despite the discouraging emotions she had at the moment, she still didn't let that dampen her determination. Her determination was back with a vengeance. She really was fiery. Not intimidated by George in any way. I don't know if I'm happy or scared that she was turning down the offer, though. On the one side, I was proud that she stood for herself and nobody else, but on the other side, if she said no to it, I might not be able to stop George from taking Jenna instead and finding a suitable job for her in his own side. I think that man would fire someone just to give a position to Jenna just so he could get his way with her, whatever that was.

Jenna, though, seemed really unimpressed with Emily. She gave her daughter a warning glare.

"What?" Emily asked Jenna. "I'm not taking it. I'm happy with my job and what I do. I don't wanna just be a slave laying things for someone and following that someone around, especially not a fucking awful cow like her."

Well, that was a rather painful jab at me. That hit fucking home. As if my guilt wasn't enough, she'd decided to go and throw some more punches. I just wish she'd just decide to go with it, make things easier for all of us. Yes, I was dragging her into this, but still, it was a safer way than what George was laying out for them. They just didn't know it yet, but even though I was dragging them into trouble, it was just an attempt to save them from an even bigger one.

"Watch your mouth, Emily," Jenna admonished as she turned her attention to Emily. "Besides, love, think about what he'd just said. You won't be a 'slave' unlike what has been said earlier," at this, she shot me with another glare. Gosh, she really hated my guts, "You would be a part of a big company, creating technological dingalings. You love that, don't you, dear? Honestly, you're lucky you're being requested. Don't you think so, Katie?" Jenna then turned to Katie, as if she was expecting the other twin would back her up and help her convince Emily. Katie just nodded distractedly, though. It was like she was thinking about something, something that took her mind off to somewhere else.

"Have Katie do it, then. I don't need this!" Emily went and nudged Katie's shoulder, shaking her off of her reverie. "You do it, Katie. You would love that, wouldn't you?"

"What?" Katie asked, shaking her head clear of whatever she had been thinking of. "No! That's not for me. It's clearly for you, Ems. I'm only into the gadgets, not how they're being made."

"But they only said assistant, Katie. You don't need to be an expert on it. Besides, you studied Management, maybe you could help. Maybe you're the right one for it, not me," Emily continued to convince Katie.

At that moment, George placed his hand on my knee, prodding at my attention. "What do you think, Naomi? It seems Emily does have a point. What do you say?"

At first, I didn't get why George would even ask me the question. After all, he was the one who pointed out that Emily was perfect for the job, being an IT expert and all. But when I looked at him as his head nodded towards Katie. I surveyed the other twin carefully for the first time. I assessed her, took in every single difference she had with Emily. And every single inch of her body and her get-up that I took in, George's implication and intention crept up tighter on me. Katie was a much more seductive woman than Emily was. She dressed to impress, she dressed to show off her curves, her bumps and all her assets, while Emily decided to hide them behind unflattering clothes. Instantly, I understood that George had considered this for the sake of his 'other business', which only added to my irritation.

"No. It's Emily I need, not Katie." I outright turned the offer down. Again, George shot me a questioning look. I was just beginning to formulate my elaborate excuse as to why Emily would be a better choice when suddenly, a door banged loudly against a wall, followed by the appearance of the most ridiculous leopard I'd ever seen.

"James Fitch back in the house, yo!" Clearly, it wasn't really a leopard that accidentally came across a box of make-up in the forest that came in. It was a man, although I thought it was a woman at first because of the ridiculous leopard-print dress he'd been on. But that goatee on his chin was what gave him away. His voice was ridiculously high-pitched, and dare I say it? He actually sounded like a girl, so don't blame me. Instantly, all thoughts of an excuse left me.

"Well, it seems that it runs in the family, then, huh?" Those were the words that came out of my mouth. But no, they weren't intentional bitch comments. They really were what immediately came to my mind the moment I laid eyes on the marvel that was James Fitch. He was wearing his tight dress while his hair fell in curls around his eyes that were surrounded with loads of make-up. His lips were puckered in a kiss, coloured with red. He looked a bit like a clown, to be honest. I wonder whose lipstick he'd gone and eaten.

"So, are you as gay as your sister, then?" I asked James Fitch, my curiosity winning over more important things at the moment.

"Hmmm, no. I'm not gay. I just have a fascination with everything about women," he answered, ignoring the deadly glare his mother was now giving him. "Gordon McPhearson said that impresses the ladies. So, you wet for me already, hun?"

"James Robertson Fitch!" Jenna almost yelled. James, at least, had the decency to wince.

"I'm sorry. Behaving now. So, what do we have here?" He walked towards the family and stood just beside Emily.

"Why don't you go upstairs and change first, James? Make yourself look more presentable for our guests," Jenna ordered, but even before James had the opportunity to answer, I cut him off.

"So, does anyone else want to contradict me about taking Emily Fitch? Anyone wanna suggest that James here take her place, since everyone seems to be so keen on going against my judgment of who will be appropriate to take on the job in _my_ team, in _my_ department. Anyone?" I asked, emphasizing the term 'my' and showing that I was in no way pleased that everyone seemed to think they would have better judgment than me when it came to my employees and my team. Of course, it was just a strategy to get George off my back. Showing that I'm pissed off would at least make him back off a little to check why I am being irritated. This was all due to the fact that I had no other excuse to give if he ever asked again why I insisted that Emily would be who I needed.

"Look, I told you, I've thought about this," I addressed George once again. To his credit though, he seemed to have the decency to look apologetic for trying to contradict my judgment himself. "I said Emily will be the one for the job. Okay, so I didn't know what career she had when I outright chose her, but now that that has been cleared, I'm sure Emily is who I need. Even you have said that, Dad."

George sighed then. "Okay, I'm sorry, dear, for questioning your judgment. It seems you really have thought of this. I'm out of it. You decide for your own team. We'll talk about this later." He gave me a look that said, even though he wouldn't be questioning my decision anymore, he still had a few questions he'd like to clear off with me. I wasn't the least bit looking forward to that. To be quite honest, I was starting to feel a little tired about all this arguing and contradicting we had been doing. We weren't going anywhere, and that wasn't doing anything good for me. The short time of relief I had had instantly halted the moment Emily continued to show antagonism towards me. Oh, Jesus. How I'd love to just end this night right here.

"Whoa, wait a minute there," James said, his hand outstretched, palms up front. "What's going on here?" He looked towards Emily, his eyebrows raised. "Emsy, sis, what's up?"

Emily was still fuming, her eyebrows were crumpled together in the middle of her forehead and when she opened her mouth to answer her brother, I knew nothing pleasant would come out of it, nothing that would help my cause. So I cut her off and answered for her instead.

"I just gave your sister here a position in our company, James, a very high position," I explained, crossing my arms over my chest. "It's a company that deals with technological innovations, something that your sister is clearly very much into. But everyone, including your sister herself, seems to think the job's not for her." After explaining, I stared at James, only to find him not very subtly staring at my tits. It was in that moment that something from my buried memories poked their way back into the surface.

_I've got a pervert brother who thinks that cross-dressing will get him one hot bride. He used to perv on me and Katie, that bastard._

"Charming," I murmured to myself before uncrossing my arms and snapping my fingers to get his attention. "My eyes are up here, leopard boy."

"Oh, sorry, what?" He shook his head as he blinked at me.

I rolled my eyes at him as a reply before saying, "So, you gonna contradict me too? You think it's a bad idea, like your sister does?"

In my peripheral vision, I could see Emily shooting daggers at her brother, clearly telling him he shouldn't dare agree with me. But it seemed that James was another one of the Fitch siblings that I should thank for being on my side because instead of backing up her sister, he went and said, "Well, no. I don't really know the whole story, but if you're offering my sister a job in a different company than she's currently in right now, then you've got my vote. Anything to get her out of that hell whole she's working at the moment."

That piqued my curiosity. Based on what Emily had been saying a while ago, the way she'd been defending that current job of hers, it sounded like a pretty good job. And James talking rubbish about it shouted peculiarity at me.

"Why? What's wrong with her job right now?"

"Nothing!" Emily interjected, pulling my attention back at her and away from her brother. But after raising an eyebrow at her, I turned back at James.

"Well?"

"Well, nothing. Don't you dare say anything, James Fitch!" Emily warned her brother.

"Wait, what's going on?" Jenna asked. Apparently, even she had no idea what was going on.

"I agree with James." The voice of Katie Fitch suddenly drowned Emily's further arguments. "I totally think she'd be better at your company."

"Katie!"

"What? It's true, Ems. What James said is true. You've got to get out of that company. I've been thinking about it since these people offered you the job." Oh, so that was what she'd been thinking about a while ago. I was liking her more and more by the second, this Katie Fitch. She seemed a bit nicer than what Emily had said years ago. I wondered how that happened. "I mean, yes, it sounds a bit awful being forced into it, but you gotta admit, Emsy, it's a lot better than that company you're in right now. At least you won't be harassed there, right?" At the end of her sentence, Katie turned to me, question in her eyes.

"Wait, harassed? What do you mean harassed?" I asked, an awful feeling of dread starting to settle on my stomach at the thought of Emily being harassed by anybody.

"Yes, what do you mean harassed, Katie, love?" Rob, asked, speaking again after a long while of just letting everyone argue in front of him. "What's been happening to my Emily?"

Katie shared a look with Emily after Rob had asked his question. A conversation seemed to have gone between the twins with only their eyes because after only a few seconds, Emily gave a defeated sigh and Katie went into detail about Emily's situation. I wasn't part of the family, I hadn't known Emily that long, but even I was being gnawed on by worry. Even I was on the edge of my seat, waiting for what Katie would say.

"It's been a while now since Emily had told me, and apparently, James as well. But she's been having problems at work with the new boss and all." Katie started as well all listened, even George was all ears. "Well, he's homophobic and he's been giving Emily a hard time because she's well, she's not really gay, but she insists she is so it's a big problem. The boss harasses her because of it."

Another sigh escaped Emily as Katie denied her sexuality once again. It seemed that it still wasn't a clear issue between all of them.

"The point is," James continued, taking over the explanation and elaborating more on what Katie had said. "It's been getting worse every day. A colleague of her, another gay worker in there, actually quit because it was too much for him. And he's known to be a pretty strong lad, can take judgments and all that. So him quitting just means things aren't going for the better." After a bit of a pause, James looked at Emily, as if asking her permission for something else he was going to say. Emily just sighed once more, which James took as a good sign. "Well, Ems even said she was thinking of quitting herself and looking for another job. So, this is actually quite convenient."

"If that's the case, then why don't you just accept it, Miss Fitch?" I asked, my voice suddenly turning gentle. But instead of that having a good effect, it only seemed to worsen Emily's opinion of me. Instead of answering me in a pleasant way, she just glared at me.

"I don't need favours from anybody," Emily said after crossing her own arms over her chest in defiance. "I can look for a job myself without being forced into anything. Besides, how do I know your company isn't worse than what I have now?"

It was my turn to sigh then. Deciding to tone down the bitchiness just this once, to at least assuage any doubts Emily still had, I continued to talk to her with a gentle voice. "It's not worse." I stared at her, stripping the barriers around me for a moment to let her see through me to my sincerity, the way I had a while ago. "Look at me, Miss Fitch. Do I look like I'm straight? Come on, look at me. Am I screaming heterosexuality to you?"

At my permission, I could swear it wasn't only Emily's eyes that roamed me right then. Hell, even George's eyes were taking me in at that moment. I felt like he was seeing me in a different light. It was the first time any issues about my sexuality were brought up in his presence. I could even swear he thought I was straight. I didn't know what that could bring to my undercover mission, but I found that at the moment, I didn't really care. The only thing I found myself caring about was ensuring Emily that she wouldn't be judged under my guard. It was the least I could do to make her feel safe, despite what I was pulling her into. Somehow, even with this little deed of mine, I felt that old Naomi coming back, the real Naomi, that Naomi she'd met and trusted with her deepest and most personal secrets. Somehow, even a little bit, it made me feel better. So try hard, I did. Willing myself to be as truthful as I could, I bared myself naked in front of her eyes, I let my eyes show what I really felt inside. With my eyes, I willed myself to give her all the truths my words could never be able to provide.

"I don't know. How would I know if you're straight or not?" Emily countered, but gone was the venom in her voice. I could tell the coldness in her voice was just that, plain coldness, just something that she keeps in there for a little bit of defense. She wasn't being rude, just being honest.

"I could tell you now, Miss Fitch," I said, smiling a little. "Nothing of the sort is gonna happen to you under my watch. There are two vital members of my team that are out and proud of their bisexuality. One of them is the legendary Elizabeth Stonem. So if anyone from my part of the company which you will be involved in has got a problem with that, they will answer to Elizabeth and of course to me. Do I even need to tell you how many I've fired just because they've judged two of my colleagues in the past months? I don't mind counting them all. Although if I say all their names, we'd take a bit longer." Of course that was a bit of an exaggeration, but nevertheless, it was true I'd fired a couple just because of being rude and judgmental. I was an out and proud gay to my past colleagues in my old police department and to my little team of undercover agents. I might not be a broadcasted gay in the company, but it was clear to everyone that I hated people with prejudices like that. "My point is, yes, my company is not immune to prejudiced people. They're out there, all around, and my company doesn't have any defences against them. But what I can assure you, is that once I'm there, looking after you, they won't get close to even your door. I won't let anything like that happen. You can trust that, at least, _Emily_." In the end of my little speech, I wasn't able to stop myself from calling her by her first name. But then again, I didn't think anything was wrong with that. If anything, I think it would even help my cause.

The silence that reigned over the whole room after that by far kicks the arse of all other silences that hovered over us in the past hours. But even through the silence, there wasn't a stitch of tension. Even though my eyes were still glued to Emily, I could feel every single sight planted onto me. I could feel George's scrutinizing eyes on me, probably trying to decipher if I was being true and serious or if this was another ploy to get them to agree with me. Rob Fitch, though, was looking at me with his mouth open in a pearly-white smile. Even Jenna seemed to hate me a little less after that. Katie and James just looked relieved for the assurance. I didn't care about them, though. All I cared about was Emily's opinion, nobody else's.

"So, what do you think?" I asked, finally addressing Emily and trying not to fidget under everybody's stares. But even before Emily could answer me, Jenna Fitch went and took the chance out of her hands.

"Go and pack your stuff, Emily, dear. You have to take this job. I won't have you coming back to that company you're currently working in. I won't have that again. No arguments, anymore, Emily. Go up and do as you're told for once."

To be quite honest, I think Emily was on the verge of finally accepting the job. I was actually convinced that I'd managed to get her in my side, but the moment Jenna took my gentle assurance, twirled it around her long, slender fingers and turned it into something that would force Emily into something again, I felt Emily's stare freeze with ice cold rejection once again. It was then that I realized what Emily really hated about this situation. It wasn't the fact that I was a rude bitch. It wasn't fully the fact that she was becoming like a payment for her father's debt. More than everything, it was the fact that her family was thinking it okay to take every choice out of her hands and shove her into something without her consent. She hated being forced into something. She hated being manipulated. And even that meant she really didn't outright hate _me,_ just the situation, I still didn't feel better. If anything, I felt even worse for Emily. If bigger things didn't rely on this, I actually think I'd want her to continue rebelling against her family. But seeing as bigger things relied on this, and also the fact that I myself wanted her out of the hell that was her current job, I shook that thought out of my head.

It was clear, just by the way Emily frowned once more, that she was about to argue again, but before that could happen, Katie took over.

"Come on, Ems. I'll help you pack." She took Emily's hand after giving her a warning look to keep the younger Fitch from contradicting once more. "We'll be back shortly," she said to me curtly, to which I nodded in reply, still lost in my own thoughts.

"We'll talk more about this later." I heard George say softly from beside me. He didn't look like he was going to scold me for anything. He just looked like he wanted to clear things up. I nodded to him, but even as I did so, I already had an excuse to postpone that little conversation when he asked for it. I was just too tired to be bothered by that tonight. I would have to get out of that little talk, lest I say anything that would fuck things up more than they already are.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever, dad," I murmured as I laid back down on the sofa, my back hitting the plush material, but feeling none of the comfort it should be giving me. Instead, all I felt then was dread, unrelenting and unforgiving dread, as I waited for Emily Fitch to come back down and finally trudge through hell with me.

xXxXxXxXxXx

_**Emily**_

"I can't believe you, Katie," I said as I shoved a couple of my clothes on my suitcase. A frown was permanently painting my face as I sat down on my bed across Katie's, packing everything I'd need with a heavy heart. I couldn't believe this was happening. A couple of hours ago, the biggest problem I had was not getting enough sleep the past night and having to wake up tomorrow for another day with my stupid boss back at the office. A couple of hours ago, I would have gladly whined about my job, but right now, I'd still pick that shitty company with that wanker of a boss rather than this. I mean, yes, it was a good offer, that one, and my current job is really boiled shite compared to that, but fuck, at least that job of mine was my choice. This one was just something they decided to shove in my face again.

"Can't believe me, why?" Katie asked me, her voice now not anywhere close to that gentle one she'd used downstairs. Clearly, it wasn't only me that was getting pissed off at this. But, really, I give no fucks about what she had to say. After all, it wasn't her that was going to be handed away like a suitcase of quids for payment. Besides, I still can't forgive her for siding with them. She's my twin sister. She's supposed to be on my side, not theirs.

"I can't believe you didn't back me up down there. The least you could have done was side with me, Katie. But what did you do? You supported them, you gave me away, you and James. I thought we were all in this together."

"Oh, shut up and quite whining about it, Emsy," Katie said, giving me a roll of her eyes as she threw me the shirt that was draped over her headboard, the shirt she'd borrowed and never bothered to return to me. "I did side with you. It was just not with the way you wanted me to."

"Oh, really? You sided with me?" I turned to her for a moment, momentarily stopping my search for my heels under my bed. "In what way was that siding with me?" I asked before peeking under my bed once again. "Where the hell are my black heels? Fuck's sake."

Katie peeked under her own bed and came up with the heels I'd been looking for. She tossed it to my direction, ending up hitting my ankles. "I sided with you in a way that I picked the choice that's better for you, you ungrateful bitch!"

"Ow!" I winced as the heels the tender flesh near my ankles. That's gonna bruise, that is. "How did that get there?"

"I borrowed it, stupid."

"I don't remember you borrowing it, you slag. You took it without my— Oh, fuck it. Nevermind." I stood up and went to the wardrobe that Katie and I shared, taking out more clothes and stuffing them in my case. "How is handing me away a better choice, again? Because the last time I checked being handed away as payment wasn't in my bucket list I wanted to fulfil before I die."

"Oh, stuff it and listen for once, Ems." Katie scolded, sounding like a mother scolding her stubborn daughter. I frowned at her, to which she only rolled her eyes before standing up herself and helping me pick out the clothes I'll need more. "Stop looking at it that way for a moment."

I stopped whatever I was doing and turned to my sister, my attention fully settling on her. "Okay, what do you mean, then?"

"What I mean is, that job you have now is not good for you, Ems," she started, her face lighting up a bit after gaining my whole attention. "Your fucking boss is harassing you. You're not getting as much experience being cooped up in that little office of yours as you like. You're the one who said that. They're just making you encode things and shit. They're not involving you in the things you wanna be involved with."

"And you think being an assistant of that bitch downstairs is gonna fix that?"

"Well, no," to her credit, Katie had the decency to look a bit sheepish at that. After all, I had a point. Being an assistant for that blonde bitch was just the same job as I had at the moment, if not worse. With my job, at least I was getting to do something related to what I loved doing. With that new company they were shoving in my face, I didn't know. "But you heard what Naomi said, she'll look after you. Maybe if you just showed them how good you are, then maybe they'll promote you or something."

"You actually believed her?" I asked, my eyebrows hitching up my forehead. Frankly, I don't know if I believe that Naomi. Since the moment I laid eyes on her, she'd been rude and bitchy. Every single comment she'd made was rude and uncalled for. Yeah, maybe it was just out of fun and sarcasm, but that wasn't the right way to treat people you'd only just met. Clearly, she didn't have any good manners. Besides, if she was like that on other people's homes, I'd be scared to see what she's like in her own house, where she could be the fucking queen. But that last moment in the sitting room, though, the way she assured me that I would be in no way harassed under her watched, well, I did believe that. There was just something about the way she looked at me that made me think none of it were fake. The way her blue eyes stared back at mine, was just something that I couldn't dare say was a lie.

To be quite honest, while she was talking to me, the intensity of her stare had done wonders. It was like it wasn't her voice that was speaking to me, telling me all those words she said. Instead, I felt like her eyes were the ones touching me, stretching across the space between us and sending the message to me with a touch of those eyes. Somehow, at that moment, the blue of her eyes didn't resemble ice to me. At that moment, the blue of her eyes resembled the ocean, the calm ocean in the middle of the day. I imagined standing in a white sand beach, the ocean stretching in front of me to distances even my eyes couldn't see. There were no violent waves crashing ashore, just the calm movement of the water back and forth as if poking at my feet. The water was like a soothing massage to the soles of my feet. The sun was up the sky, but the breeze was chilly, contradicting the heat of the sun, mingling in a harmonious combination of warmth and coolness. And as I stared at the ocean, I could see a whole new world, a safe world where the harsh reality couldn't touch me. It was like I was guarded inside a paradise, a world where no one can harm me. And that world was what I saw when I gazed at her eyes. Her blue orbs brought me to that place. I practically saw it mirrored in her pupils. And in that moment, I felt the truth of her words touching me, reassuring me. I would have said yes at that moment. But then my mother brought me back to reality, tugged at me hard, back to that dark cliff I'd been dragged in as soon as I stepped inside this house today. Suddenly, the safe feeling was gone and back was the anger I had for everyone, the anger that accompanied the thought of being given away like a thing, disposable and recyclable.

"Ems? Ems, you there? Bitch, Hellooo?" I was pulled away from my reverie by my sister's hand waving in front of my face. I hadn't even realized I'd blanked out there. I just got too immersed in my thoughts and I had no fucking idea what Katie had been saying before getting back my attention.

"What did you say?" I asked, flopping back on the bed as I put the last items of clothing I'd need in my bag and zipped it.

"I said there's nothing wrong with believing her. She looked quite honest to me that time, you know? Besides, I still think it's better than your current job. Fuck knows that boss of yours need to die because of all the shit you're getting just because you're—"

"Yes?" I asked, waiting for her to finally admit that I'm gay. Really, it was ridiculous how she still didn't say it. Even I know she believed it deep inside. She was just too scared to admit it like she'd lose me if she said it. She even goes and evaluates my girlfriends so her insisting I wasn't gay and just stupid or confused was just absurd. Besides, thinking that I'd leaver her was ludicrous as well, she wouldn't lose me ever. Yes, I did hate Katie every once in a while, but she was still my sister, that would never change. Time and time again, I'd told her that, but she didn't seem to understand it. She still continued denying it to herself.

"—just because you're rebellious."

"Tsh. Nice cover up."

"Whatever. Point is, it's time to give up on it. Even Maxxie resigned. And you know how tough Maxxie is. He doesn't give a shit what people bully him for. But he resigned because that fucking twat was getting in the way of opportunities he could grab. And now it's happening to you. It's time to fucking quit, Ems. I know we're Fitches and 'Fitches never quit' and all that shit but know when it's time to shove the shit in someone else's face, Ems. Alright? Now, stop moping like a little kid and grow some balls."

At that, I couldn't help the smile that reached out to touch my lips. Shaking my head gently, I sat back down on my bed, still thinking about that little moment I shared with Naomi downstairs. Don't get me wrong, I still practically hate her, but what I couldn't shake, still, was that look she'd given me. All my life, I nobody had ever been able to have that effect on me just with one look. Only one person was able to do that in my knowledge, but it seemed she wasn't the only one. Sighing to myself, I pulled the top draw on my bedside drawer and retrieved the silver bracelet with a single charm dangling on the chains, the head of a smiling cow. My smile widened when the memory of the bracelet crept up on my mind. That was a rather funny event, when she gave it to me. Had a bit of a laugh at that, but most of all, when I'd been finally given the real meaning of it, I was impressed, touched, really, since she'd given it to me along with one promise, a promise that I so wanted to find out if still held unbroken.

"Oh, not the cow, again." Katie groaned beside me. It was only then that I remembered again that I wasn't alone in the room. "You're gonna bring that?"

"Of course, I am. I bring it anywhere, just not last night because I don't trust the peeps you hang around with, might get lost." I shrugged, handing the bracelet to her so she could help me put it on. "Besides, what do you know, maybe I'll be able to find her where I'm going," I said, finally letting the thought of leaving settle down on me.

Rolling her eyes, she took the bracelet from me and wrapped it around my wrist, securing the clasp on the chain. "You still haven't given up with that, then. I told you, Ems. She's just a one night kind of thing. You're never gonna find her again. You've been looking for her for years, like I said, know when to quit. Besides, she didn't try to find you, you shouldn't give a shit as well."

"I don't know, Katie. She gave me something to hold on to. I'm not just gonna give up. Besides, I've got a lot to thank her for," I said, looking up at Katie, my head inclining to the side as I smiled at her. "A lot to thank her for, indeed."

"Oh, shush." A blush painted Katie's cheeks as she playfully slapped my hand, something the Katie from college wouldn't have done. That was what I wanted to thank my masked girl for, more than anything. Yes, it still hadn't turned my life to perfection. Yes, Katie still denied that I was gay, but in terms of my relationship with my sister, a lot has changed and all those happened because of her. Don't get me wrong, my relationship with Katie still wasn't perfect. There was still something that was staining my relationship with her. That was actually the other reason why I still wanted to find my masked girl. Despite the fact that I'd only known her for a night, I trusted her and her judgment. And to be quite honest, she was the only person I really trusted enough to ask advise from regarding this stain my relationship with Katie. So that was the reason why I still wanted to find her, but most of all, like I'd said, I wanted to thank her first and foremost for nudging me towards the right direction to fixing my life.

That night, years ago, had changed a lot in my life. Before that night, I was merely the Emily who struggled for everyone to accept who I was. Before that night, I did everything just so I could show people that I could do whatever I wanted. To be quite honest, before that night, I was starting to get too lost in my own rebellion to the point that I was starting to cause a permanent damage to my future. I was being too risky, I went everywhere, played around with everyone, every single girl I found, just so I could rebel against my family. I had been well on my way to walking disaster, until I met her. I met her that one night, and that one night was enough for her to slap me back down to Earth. With just her honesty, her sincere and straight-to-the-point scolding, I woke up from the haze of my uprising and learned the right way to handle my life.

She taught me a lot of things, my masked girl did. She made me realize it didn't matter if you physically rebelled against people or not. As long as you know in yourself who you are and what you can do, that was enough to save you. It didn't matter if people around you accepted you or not, as long as you accepted yourself, you were in good hands. She taught me how to stand up for myself in the right way, taught me that making people see what you are didn't always have to involve overdramatic ploys just to make your point. Sometimes, it was enough to just sit them down, talk to them face to face, one on one, and let them understand you. She taught me screaming and yelling my reasons to people really wouldn't help anything, but that calm and controlled talking was what would get people to listen most of the time. She also taught me that I didn't need to tell everybody my sides of the stories. She taught me that having one special person backing me up was still more important than having a horde of friends yapping things at me. And all that combined, was able to fix my relationship with Katie.

Yes, we still argued, we still had our differences, but that was just the way sisters were supposed to be, especially twins. What was most important, though, was that we'd already laid all our insecurities out there for each other to see. All those problems we'd had growing up were banished to the wind and pushed to oblivion. Just like what my masked girl told me, I sat her down one night, told her all about the horrible things her manipulation were making me feel. I told her that I wanted to be free, wanted to be my own self without her having to tell me what to do. I told her I wanted to step out of her shadow and be my own self for once. Katie did listen to everything I said that night. And after I'd told her all of that, a big insecurity of her about me came out. She didn't want to be left alone, that was what she'd said before. She always tried to control me because she never wanted to let me go. Contrary to what she'd always let me believe, she thought I was better than her and me leaving her side to do things for myself meant that I was leaving her, leaving her to herself. And she'd said she can never fare for herself without me. I contradicted her, then and there, told her she could survive without me. She said she didn't think anybody would settle for her and think her special, only me. At first, I didn't know what she was talking about. She was special, my sister. She was Katie Fucking Fitch after all. She was fucking special, and everybody knew that. But after a long prodding, she finally told me why she never really thought she was good enough for anybody.

During college, Katie had shuffled from boyfriends after boyfriends in search for that perfect prince that would someday make her his Queen and give her a happy ever after kind of life. My sister, even though it didn't look like it, was the type to believe in perfect fairytale lives. Ever since she turned 7, she'd been in search for that perfect guy that would give her the perfect life she'd always dreamed of. But that shattered that one day when she found out she was never gonna have the perfect life. Katie, even with all her physical perfection, wasn't truly perfect. Katie was cursed to never have kids.

The night she told me that, my guilt ate me alive. The day she found out about the bad news, I was out and about, fucking my life, rebelling against everybody. I was out, having so much fucking fun, while my sister suffered alone. It was on that night that I vowed to Katie that I would never really leave her. I vowed to her, that even though I still thrived for my own freedom, I would never really abandon her. That was the stain I was talking about. Since that night we'd opened up to each other, things got better for me and Katie, she stopped trying to control me. She stopped trying to tell me what to do every day, who to hang out with and who to be friends with. But what she started trying to control was my sexuality.

Well, to the sense of the word, she really wasn't trying to control my sexuality. She wasn't like before that she would stop me from going out with girls. The only problem was, she was like a hawk that guarded every single one of my girlfriends, like, 24/7. Once she'd learned that I was going out with someone, she'd dig up information about them, every single flaw, and lay it out in front of me, telling me how this girl wasn't perfect for me, how this one didn't deserve me. It was sick. In the end, my girlfriend would break up with me because she couldn't stand Katie breathing down her neck. And after that, she'd lecture me on how stupid I really was. That I wasn't really gay, just stupid. And she'd always go and ask me why I just don't go looking for the perfect guy for me, since girls weren't proving to be any good. It was always like that, every single time.

It didn't need a genius to realize that what Katie was doing to my life, finding the perfect person for me, fixing everything to perfection, was something she did to my life just because she couldn't do it with hers anymore. I've talked about this to her time and time again, but it always just ended up with her crying and telling me she just wanted to help. And to be quite honest, I'd stopped trying after a while. I just couldn't stand that look of hurt on my sister's eyes. Unlike before when she just manipulated me for the sake of it, this time, I knew her intentions were pure, and I was at a loss for words every time she used that card with me. Besides, most of the time, what she was able to dig out of my girlfriends were actually things that were really worthy of digging up. Another reason why I stopped giving Katie hell for what she was doing was because she was actually right in everything she always said about my girlfriends, that in the end. She was always right. They really weren't the one for me. The bollocking after another failed relationship was just another on the stack of things I got used to with Katie.

But even though that was the case, I still wanted the opinion of my masked girl about this. And it wasn't because I was getting fed up with Katie and her overprotectiveness. No, that wasn't the case. The reason why I wanted to find this mysterious girl was because I wanted her to help Katie. Trying to give me a perfect life, I knew the reason behind it was because Katie didn't believe she still had a chance to a good life. She was trying to fix everything for me because she didn't think it would happen to her. I tried telling her that once as well, but she didn't believe me. I think to really get her to believe it, someone else should say it to her, someone who wasn't obligated to make her feel good, someone who wouldn't feel bad to slap her with her crap. I don't think I was the right person for that. So, looking for my masked girl was for my sister's sake as much as my own. You might think it's ridiculous of me to rely on someone who wasn't present and who was practically stranger to me. You might think I'm a coward for not believing that I would be able to do this, wake my sister up, without anybody else's help, but honestly, I think the best shot I could have was finding my masked girl. As I've said, I've talked to Katie about it, and it had its own effect. But I just couldn't shake off the feeling that whoever will be able to help Katie, wasn't really me. And frankly, there was no other person in this planet that I think would be worth my sister's secrets and feelings besides my masked girl. So, really, what was wrong in trying? That was the reason I still haven't given up. I just hope against everyone else's hope that I would someday be able to find her. I just really hope.

"Oi, Miss Fitch. Can't you be any slower? Cause, really, we're not busy people. And no, we don't have appointments, so you can take your time, okay? Don't think we're on a schedule, alright?" I was extracted once again from my memories by a female voice, but this time, it wasn't Katie's. Even Katie seemed to have been lost in her own world for a bit there as well. This time, it was Naomi's voice, dripping with sarcasm, that caused both Katie and I to jump slightly.

"Looks like Naomi Fuckbitch is asking for you, Ems. I swear, though, if she doesn't stop being that bitchy, I'll put her to her fucking place. Nobody else deserves the title of Bitch Queen other than me."

I laughed at Katie's antics as I checked everything in my bag again, making sure I had my essentials packed and secured. After making sure I had everything, I zipped up my bag again and dragged it back downstairs, Katie trailing behind me. As I descended the stairs, the charm bracelet cold against my wrist, I had the unshakable feeling that I was not merely stepping away from my home, I was not merely stepping through a new life. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that I felt as I walked towards our front door after hugging my parents, James and then Katie, promising to be back as soon as I could, the next day if I could, but as I climbed the extravagant car of the Hadley's, sitting by the door on the right side, Naomi sat beside me, I didn't exactly feel like I was on my way to the gallows. I didn't feel like I was on my way to my death. What I felt then was the strange buzz of anticipation. It wasn't outright excitement, not really, but it was the surge of expectation. I wasn't sure where it came from, but as we drove, I felt like I was on my way to somewhere like that place I'd seen in Naomi's eyes a while ago. Somehow, I didn't feel scared. I felt, dare I say it, safe. I wasn't sure why, but I had a hunch it might be because of the blonde sitting beside me.

xXxXxXxXxXx

"Oi, Miss Fitch. Can't you be any slower? Cause, really, we're not busy people. And no, we don't have appointments, so you can take your time, okay? Don't think we're on a schedule, alright?" I said, leaning against the banister as I looked up to the second floor. It was my idea to get up from the sofa and demand the Fitch twins to go back down immediately. It was getting late, our late afternoon meeting turning into an early evening one. In only a bit, it would be time for dinner, and fuck me if we had to endure dinner in this place. If Emily Fitch requests it, I'd choose to be on her worse side than say yes. I couldn't stand another minute in this house with all these people together, looking at me like I was some hero who had the responsibility to look after Emily. Because of the expectant looks Rob was giving me, I swear even Jenna looked like she was about to entrust her child to me, I was starting to regret saying everything I said back in the living room about looking after Emily. Yes, I would still do it, but that didn't mean I loved making everybody think I was some sort of caretaker for Emily Fitch.

I was just about to shout again, ignoring Jenna's glares at just yelling around her house like I fucking owned it, when the twins emerged from the second floor, Emily clutching a small suitcase that housed all her necessities. I walked back towards the door, not wanting to witness the family farewells. George was already in the car. He'd gone straight there as soon as we'd gotten out of the sitting room. He was also very clear with that little stunt that Emily was responsibility and mine alone. He didn't have anything to do with her. And that was just the way I liked it. I knew this, him giving me responsibility for Emily, was just temporary and time would come when he'd demand me for her for the whatever he wanted from her, but for now, I'd concentrate on the fact that he wouldn't be doing anything involving Emily at the moment. Right now, what I had to do was plan how to stop that inevitable future of handing Emily to him from happening.

Once I was by the door, I stepped outside and waited for Emily, hearing the faint goodbyes of the Fitches, not failing to hear Emily's promise of coming back the next day whatever happened. I still don't know what I would do about that, but I pushed that out of my mind for now. After another minute or so, the door opened and out came Emily Fitch.

I didn't dare say anything to her, wanting to keep the conversations to a minimal, mainly because I knew for sure whatever words would be exchanged between us wouldn't be good and polite in any way. She still held that defiant aura about her and judging by the glare she kept shooting me, she still hated me. It was like that little moment in the sitting room didn't happen at all. I was still the villain in her eyes. Truth be told, though, I didn't have the guts to contradict her.

She stopped just beside me as the rest of the Fitches poured out the front door. Instinctively, I reached for her bag, my skin momentarily brushing against hers. I flinched a bit at the coldness that I felt when my wrist came in contact with hers. But it was only after I'd handed her bag to one of our Close Protection Officers to put on the boot of the car that I looked down on her wrist to see what it was that I'd touched. And when I saw it, I really wished I hadn't.

I didn't talk in the whole duration of the trip back to the Hadley Manor, nor did Emily try to start any conversation. It was only George who seemed keen on talking about anything on the way back. With Emily sat to my right and George sat to my left, I was left with the torture of entertaining George's attempts at casual talk. But really, the only replies I managed to give him were nods and hums of agreement. I didn't even bother disagreeing with him just because it took a lot more effort than just nodding. Eventually, he stopped trying and just fiddled with his phone. But that was after he'd given me another subtle 'We'll talk later' whisper. I didn't give a damn, though. The whole duration of the journey, the only thing I was concerned about was the chain of silver glinting around Emily's wrist as if taunting and mocking me.

Of course I knew that bracelet, of course I remembered. It was fucking mine, after all. I'd given her that charm bracelet that same night I first met her. I had been wearing a mask, then, I didn't give her my name. I just said it was for professional purposes that I should keep my identity hidden. Emily hadn't argued with that. But as a consolation, I decided to give her something that she could hold on to, something that could give her a clue about my identity. I'd given her the clue back then, and said that that cow had something to do with my name, and also a promise that as long as she had it, it will bring her good luck and that she would always be protected. Of course that bit about the good luck was just a joke and she knew it. I didn't believe in good luck charms and that certainly wasn't one. But that part about always being protected, that was actually true. And that had nothing to do with any blessings on the silver. What I meant back then, seeing as that charm bracelet was a symbol of me, was simply, as long as she was with me, she'd remain protected. I made that promise and I intended to keep it. I wanted to look for her after that night, I tried as well. But I didn't try hard enough, partly because by that time, my life was already utter rubbish, I didn't want to drag her into it. Who fucking knew years later, I would be dragging into my life which had become much more complicated than it was years ago. Really, the irony of my fucking life was just marvellous, eh? But the point was, the bracelet clearly was mocking me. And if I didn't know for sure that Emily didn't know it was me, I'd have thought she was mocking me with the bracelet. I mean, really? Wear it after I'd dragged her into hell? Wear it just so she could rub it in my face that I had broken the promise and had done the exact opposite—pulled her into danger instead of protecting her? Really?

Saying that the whole ride was a roller coaster ride to hell would be another huge understatement. As I got pulled down into the waves of my memories about Emily once again, the feeling of guilt and dread only intensified. It multiplied tenfold even hundredfold. By the time we reached the manor, I was drained physically, mentally and emotionally. So when George finally asked me to wait for him to be back so we could talk, I didn't have to fake tiredness. I was truly very exhausted. So when I told him that, he just nodded. Clearly, my face was enough proof of my exhaustion. With a promise to talk to him the next morning, I was sent to my room, same as Emily was sent to one of the guest rooms.

I didn't even have time to help Emily get settled in, nor did I actually have the drive to. To be honest, I wanted to get away from everyone, including Emily, especially Emily. So what I did was hand her to the Housekeeper, with an instruction of helping Emily get settled in the room connected with mine. Funny, really, how appropriate that was. The room I was given when I arrived here had another door apart from the one that led to the hallway. It was connected to the room next to it, which was now about to be Emily's room. Fucking fantastic, eh? I just wondered what Emily thought of that. The person she also desperately wanted to avoid was connected to her room with one single door. The irony that surrounded our life was really something I wanted to kill if only it were alive.

After sending another instruction to the Housekeeper to send my dinner and Emily's in our own separate rooms because we won't be joining George in the dining room, I sat down on the bed, thinking back on the events of the day. Even though things only happened at the latter half of my day, I still felt like it lasted for millions of years. My early hours of the morning worrying about my mum seemed like centuries ago now that I had something else, someone else, to worry about. Not to mention I still worried over the explaining I'd have to do with my team tomorrow morning. I'd also have to face the consequences of this little stunt I'd pulled on our long term mission. I had no doubt my team would understand my situation, but the real question was what Emily's presence would mean to our operation. And another, how would I be able to protect her now? I'd broken my promise already, I wasn't looking forward to breaking it again any time in the future.

Unconsciously, my hand hovered to the bottom drawer of my bedside table. Pulling it open, I rummaged inside, reaching for the farthest, most hidden corner, and retrieving one of the few personal belongings that I'd brought from my old life into this new one. Settling it on my lap, I stared intently at the blue and gold mask that I'd worn years ago, the musical notes painted on the lower part still looking like it had been newly painted there. I looked at the mask, just taking in its appearance and, at the same, letting myself get lost once more in the memories of that night.

Once more, I'd lost myself in that wonderful, one of a kind night, a night that was full of promises, full of hearts opening up to each other, full of trust and advises. It was a night that had proved to be the most memorable out of all the nights in my life. Unknowingly, I fell asleep, the mask falling gently on my lap as my exhaustion finally reigned over me.

xXxXxXxXxXx

Naomi didn't know for sure how long she'd slept. She didn't know what time it was when she woke. She didn't even know what really propelled her to wake up. The only thing she knew after waking up was that her chest was drumming with the hard beats of her heart and that her vision was clouded with red. She couldn't remember if she'd had a dream, only that she woke up with a strange feeling enveloping her. When she woke up, the mask was still settled atop her lap. A tray of food was on her bedside table, apparently brought there by one of the maids who had either been too polite to wake her up or just didn't give a fuck.

There were a lot of things Naomi didn't know after she'd woken up that minute. But on top of that list was something that involved the other woman occupying the room connected with hers. Unknown to Naomi, just a few minutes before she'd woken up, someone else bolted upright from an exhaustion-induced sleep. But unlike Naomi who had unknown reasons for waking up, Emily had been jolted awake by visions of blue eyes, brown hair and blue and gold masks in her dreams, inky black musical notes wrapping around her consciousness and dragging her back to the real world.

That night, both Naomi and Emily, both unknowingly and knowingly, dreamt of each other, that night they shared with one another, that night full of trust and still – until that moment – unbroken promises they'd given each other. That night, Naomi and Emily's minds were full of each other, the former not remembering the exact dream and the latter not knowing she had been dreaming about someone just a few metres of distance away from her. But nevertheless, after years, they once again dreamt of each other.

* * *

NA: There we go. Very long isn't it? I both congratulate and thank you if you were able to reach this part of the chapter. You did well. You are a very patient person. So, thank you so much for that.

Next, thank you, thank you to all the positive comments I received for the last chapter. Despite leaving you with the same cliffhanger, you guys still graced me with wonderful comments and very, very long ones at that. Thank you so very much. You guys don't know how many days I'd been smiling whenever I thought of that. That made writing this chapter a bit easier despite the length. But here is the paranoia again. As I've said, this is very long so now I'm paranoid that you people wouldn't like it. I just hope I'm wrong. I tried my very best keeping this one both entertaining and informative despite the length, so I hope that pays off. If you have anything to tell me, ask me, drop a review. It will be very much welcome.

Last, but not the least, Review Replies!:

Qwert232: Oh, my god I'm so sorry for taking so long to update. It wasn't two weeks, though, so does that give me a bit of a consolation? Especially since this chapter is worth two? :D Anyway, I really am sorry I took a long time to update. This week was my exam week so I was really, really. I promise to be more active in the coming weeks though. Please don't give up on me yet. :D

'anon': Well, I promise not to take a year to update, at least. That, you can count on. Haha. Thank you so much for that wonderful review. I'm really glad you liked it. And about that "I know Emily thing" that you have seen again in this chapter, count about two more chapters and you'll get one massive chapter all about that night. It'll all happen in due time, my friend. Be patient. Stay Alive! I will find you! :D

Claire: Thank you so much for sticking with me and this story. I hope you're still there. I promise to give justice to that first meeting night just because all you guys seem to be looking forward to it. I'll give it my best shot when the time comes. Again, thank you so much.

EffinHot: Omg. I really hope you didn't skip lunch for this chapter. This is very massive and I don't want you to starve because of me. Bring some food next time, dear. My chapters are incredibly ridiculous. I try to shorten them, but it seems this is the best I can do. But I'm glad you like it though. Thanks so much! :D

Christina: Babe, do you know how long I'd been grinning from ear to ear after reading your review? Let me tell you, I looked like a complete loon. Thank you so, so much for that. Your compliment was just the best I've ever received. Ever. Thank you. And that little fanfic there, lol, even I was shell shocked at the little ending. I was expecting Naomi to really kick the daylights outta that bitch. But I doubt my disclaimers are that shocking. They're ridiculous, if anything. I do hope you like this one, though. Now, I've started worrying about my disclaimers. I hope they're living up to the expectations of you wonderful people. Thank you again, Christina. Hope you're still here for this one. :D

Marsupial1974: Finally, my favourite monkey! Thank you for that very lengthy comment. Now you've officially made yourself that reviewer I look forward to hearing from. I really hope you're still there for this ride, mate. You're one of the most important passengers. :D I'm glad you're liking it so far. I hope you weren't bothered by the length of this baby right here. It's much, much longer than the last one. I hope that isn't a problem with you. And I included a bit of history about Emily up there because you requested for it. I'm not sure if there will be more in the future, but I'll see what I can do. Although, as I've said, there will be one chapter dedicated to that first night Naomily met. Will that make you a happy monkey? :D About Gina, though, you'll have to wait and stick around for that. Again, thank you so much for the very beautiful comment, mate. I really, really, appreciate it. :D

Again, thank you all. I hope you liked this chapter and that you weren't bored. Again, leave a review on your way out. Tuts! I'm out!

-xoxo Myst


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